Apocalypse
by Color With Marker
Summary: The dead has now risen and are walking the Earth, hunting the living. Eleven young adults in the United States must fight for survival against millions of walkers.
1. Chapter 1

No one had a name anymore. They were pointless now. Names were attachments. Attachment brought fear. Fear brought worry. Worry fed into insanity. Insanity let _them_ get to you first. The rest of us without real names were able to continue living among what wasn't dead yet.

It all began three months ago when the first dead man walked the Earth. It began in China. It spread across Asia, Africa, Austrailia, and Europe quickly, and from there to the Americas. Animals or people unknowingly infected could carry it around for long bouts of time- hours, days, and, I heard in one case, weeks- before you change into them. Then you're a carrier. Infected. A walker.

_One of them_.

I know how many people are left in what's left of the United States of America. Eleven. Apparently, they're all around my age. And they're all banding together one way or another. Travelling with ten other people is safe but easier to spot.

I had already found one too. Hollywood. She says that she's trying to find the one family member she has left- one the other side of the country- and needs to find her way there.

"You gotta be stupid," I said coolly. "You wanna drive out West to find your damn family? That's asking for trouble, sister."

"But if I have anyone left in the world, I want to be with them!" Hollywood pleaded. She jutted out her bottom lip. Damn those puppy dog faces.

"Alright then," I growled as we headed down the trashed highways. Crashed cars and rotting flesh were scattered across the roads, just like they are in every other place in the world.

"I never got your... title," Hollywood says as she plays with a thread on her white tank top. I groaned.

"Brooklyn," I told her.

"But if you're a boy, then-"

"Look, do you want a ride or not sister?" I snapped. She froze and went back to playing with her thread.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I was just curious." I rolled my eyes. Why was I gonna tell her my back story now? That creates attachment! Attachment equals death!

"I was born and raised in Brooklyn," I said. "Cutting down to just 'Brook' or 'Lyn' might confuse some people. Brooklyn can be a guys name too, right?"

"I dunno," Hollywood sighed as she stared out the window. "It's not like there's that many people around to care anyway." I nodded in response and kept my eyes on the road. It was gonna be a long ride out West.

* * *

"Shit, where's Boca?" Seattle asks Des Moines.

"I didn't see her when we were killing anything," he replied, shrugging. Seattle rolls her eyes and shoves the boy over. She leans out the window to get a better look. They had killed three walkers inside of a small townhouse. It was two stories, no basement or attic, and the safest spot they'd found in weeks.

It was only four of them; Seattle, Des Moines, Boca Raton, and New Jersey. They all came from different parts of the continent and found each other. They decided that it'd be best to stick together, despite what they've heard about other groups in the past. One strand of emotion can get someone killed nowadays. Not that it mattered anymore. They had become emotionless killing machines.

"Hey!" Boca Raton's voice rang up the stairs. Seattle and Des Moines turned their heads in relief. She was their fearless leader, the most emotionless of them all. The one who killed without second thought or a moment's hesitation. She was born for this.

"You find something?" Des Moines asked as he and Seattle raced down the stairs, their machetes in a ready position to kill. They stopped when they saw New Jersey and Boca Raton giving them unamused looks.

"Really?" New Jersey asked. "If we needed you to kill, don't you think we'd be screaming?" That was the one thing that could annoy anyone, her bitterness. The group was accustomed to it now. They all were like that.

"Fine, what is it?" Seattle asked. The two gawk at a large armory behind a white wooden door.

"And the keys to the sucker's Hummer," Boca grinned, jingling a pair of keys in her hands. "We'll camp out here tonight, then tomorrow, after we raid the cabinets for nonperishables, we're heading down south."

"What's wrong with Salem?" Des Moines asked. They were currently in Salem, Oregon.

"There's two more people like Boca down south," New Jersey stated. "And if we're gonna live, we need to find them."

"Do you even know their names?"

"I know who you're talking about," Seattle spoke up. "She means Nashville and Beverly Hills."

"You've gotta be kidding me!"

"Do you want to die, Des?" Boca Raton threated. "Because I'll leave you behind for the walkers to feast on your dead body!" The only boy shut up quickly. "Good, now go to bed. Barracade all doors and windows so we're safe."

All good and innocence in people had dissolved. You could've been a saint or a prisoner before this had happened. All that mattered now was that you were human.

* * *

"Glendale, we need to talk," Los Angeles told his friend. The boy looked up and smiled.

"Sure, what's up?"

"It's about Nashie." Both boys paled. Los Angeles sat next to Glendale on the couch. Their fearless leader had found a large mansion surrounded by one of the safest gates ever imagined. No walker would be able to get them now or ever.

"Was she bitten?"

"No, she went out to find something for food for the next few days. But we can't keep staying here and waiting around for someone else to come along and try to save us!"

"She's still on the whole 'we're all gonna be saved' thing?" Glendale scoffed. "Boy, will she be in for a rude awakening.

"We're all gonna be zombie chow eventually. Why is she procrastinating it?"

"Because she's the only one of us who can't admit that this is the end of the world." The two boys shared a long, meaningful glance when they heard the sounds of footsteps heading their way. Both held up their assult rifles to the doorway to see their fearless leader Nashville come into view.

"Hey boys," she greeted them. She took the knapsack off of her shoulder and tossed it onto the ground. "Should last us a few days."

"You couldn't find enough food?" Los Angeles pouted.

"I had to kill at least twenty of them just to find this. We're gonna end up having to relocate soon."

"Oh, sure, let's find us a nice beach house in sunny San Diego!" Glendale said, laughing. "I bet the weather's great right now! Can we visit the zoo while we're there?"

"No, but that's not a bad idea." Nashville pulled out the map she had of the country. She opened it and pointed to a star in California. "We're here. And San Diego is over here." She pointed highed up the state. "And that's where we should shoot for."

"Why?"

"Two words- Beverly Hills."

* * *

"Shit, that was close," San Diego muttered as he climbed up a fire escape. "That was too close of a call."

"You're telling me," Beverly Hills muttered from underneath of him. "I thought we were gonna be eaten alive."

"Or worse." San Diego shuddered at the thought of that. He finally decided that he was high enough and opened a window into a dirty apartment. He turned and helped Beverly Hills in. She smiled.

"You think this is a good hiding spot for now?"

"Well, that sliding front door seems like a good zombie-proof entrance. What do you think Beverly?" She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck and kissed him. They pulled apart with wide smiles.

"It's perfect, Diego."

They knew what they're doing was wrong. They promised each other to never reveal their true names to each other. And their relationship was a death warrant. If something happened to one, the other would lose it. What if one became a walker and tried to eat the other?

"If someone finds out, we're dead, you know that right?" San Diego whispered to her. She giggled.

"First of all, we're alone. I think we've killed the last of them within the entire city."

"You mean _you_ killed them." Beverly Hills blushed; she was known from the get go for being a notorious killing machine. She had single-handedly taken down an entire SkyBucks full of them with only an axe and a metal baseball bat. That had happened one month after this all began. Back when there were actually people around to know of it.

"And second, there are only _nine_ other people around who could possibly be living. What's to stop us?" The two shared another kissed and smiled. They may only have each other left, but they were glad they at least had someone.

* * *

_**(A/N: So, before you ask, there are five guys- Glendale, Brooklyn, Des Moines, San Diego, and Los Angeles. The other six- Nashville, Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Boca Raton, New Jersey, and Seattle- are girls. I won't tell you who's who though, just to spark interest among you guys. If your figure it out, then SHH! don't tell anyone!)**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**(Per request, I will give away some names, but I want them to stay as strangers from one another until there's sibling reunions [if any at all] or what not.)**_

* * *

"I can't stand this," San Diego groaned. Beverly Hills stopped wiping off a new coat of blood and pus from her knife.

"Can't stand what?" she asked.

"You're the greatest person in the world- and possibly the only one left, but there's someone that I'm looking for."

"Oh." She kicked her legs and sighed. "Who is she?"

"My little sister. Carly. I went down to California when this all began and left her behind with her grandfather in Yakima. It's been driving me insane looking for her." He bit his lip, knowing that Beverly wouldn't like the next words coming out of his mouth. "I was hoping that you would be the one to help reunite us." He ran by her side and put his arms around her. "Please don't hate me."

"I don't." Actually, she felt a huge weight lift off of her shoulders.

"You don't?"

"I have a younger sister too. Her name is Tori, but she's in Hollywood from what I've heard."

"Oh, well we're right by there!" Beverly shook her head.

"Hollywood, _Florida._" Diego nodded, realizing his mistake.

"That's... _oh wait_, then that makes you Trina!" Beverly gasped.

"How'd you figure out my name?" she asked.

"Because I read a story in the newspaper once. A girl named Tori was begging people to reunite her with her big sister Trina."

"Sonofabitch." Trina sighed and tucked her hair behind her ears. "I don't want you to call me that."

"Why not? I think it's a beautiful name!"

"Diego-"

"My name is _Spencer_."

Trina paused and thought of his name. She liked it. It was a great name for him. He said that he chose San Diego because when she met him, they were still in the same city. But knowing names was what she wanted to avoid.

"Fine then, _Spencer_," Trina continued. "Knowing each other's names is only going to make things so much worse on us. We'll become too close. If one of us gets hurt, the other will dive off of a cliff!"

"But that won't happen," Spencer promised. "I swear, if I have to kill you so you don't cross over, I would."

"That's not very soothing at all."

"But I telling you that I won't become attached. And since you're the best zombie killer ever, I know you won't have any problems either." He embraced her in a tight hug. She didn't move.

"This is going to be harder to do than I thought."

"What is?"

"Living."

* * *

Des Moines hated being the only guy in a group of girls. He definitely stood out more; he wasn't even American. He was in Iowa when this whole ordeal began though. The other three girls were all brunettes. There were only physical details that told them apart. Boca Raton had thick frizzy hair. Seattle was thinner than the others and her hair was almost dark enough to be considered black. New Jersey had nearly white skin and the only one with blue eyes and streaks of blue and pink fading from her hair. How they ended up together was confusing. Des met Boca and Jersey when trying to raid a Wal-Mart, and they all decided to band together after many minutes of holding each other at gunpoint. That was one month ago. Two weeks ago, they found Seattle in Montana. She was definitely younger than the rest of them. Much more scared and withdrawn too. She pleaded that they head back to her hometown to find her big brother. She said that they had promised to meet up back at their favorite hangout when this all began. So that's where they were going, in a silver pick-up truck. Boca was driving. Seattle was in the passenger seat, gripping onto her gun for dear life. Des lied in the back with Jersey so that they wouldn't be seen, yet prepared if something decided to attack.

"Why are we doing this?" she groaned quietly. "We're not even sure if this girl's brother is even alive!"

"Because she needs hope," he replied. "It's the only thing keeping her going right now. We all need something, right?" The two shivered; Washington wasn't the warmest place to be right now. Without thinking, He reached over and pulled New Jersey closer. She allowed him and lied her head down on his chest, feeling his heart beat at a steady pace. It was one of the only real living things left in the world.

They didn't know how much time had passed before the car jolted to a stop. They didn't react until Boca reached into the bed of the truck and hit Des Moines' head.

"Ow!" he cried.

"We're here," Boca replied. "Get out before Seattle runs in and gets us all killed." The duo obeyed, praying that their leader didn't see the position they were in. Since the girl was barely over five feet tall and they didn't see her face when she spoke to them, it was likely that she didn't.

"Seattle, you're shaking like a chihuahua," New Jersey pointed out. And the younger girl was.

"I think she's the only person in the world who should still be in high school," Boca added. Seattle just bit her lip and stared at the ground solemnly.

"Let's go before we get hurt," Des said. Jersey was already decided on for staying outside; it was her turn to anyway. Boca opened the door first and ushered the other two inside. Seattle was still holding her gun to her chest. Des had his pointed, ready to shoot whatever wasn't alive.

"This is where he said he'd be," Seattle whimpered. "Where is he?"

"Look, kid, he may not be here," Boca snapped. "Who the hell is your brother anyway?"

"His name is Spencer, and-"

"City name, honey, not birth name." Seattle had to think about that.

"San Diego. He was in San Diego last time I checked."

"That's where he is then," Des spoke up. "I heard that there was two groups of people down in California. One in Los Angeles, and one in San Diego."

"Then that's our next resting point," Boca stated. "Let's go, kid-" Familiar moans filled the small restaurant- the Groovy Smoothie, as it read on the menu hanging above the counter. The group looked over to see an African American man limping over toward the trio. Half of his left arm was missing. One of his ankles were broken so he couldn't walk. His eyes were yellow and pasty, the small pupils glaring at the alive ones in the building. Blood was caked onto his orange shirt and khaki pants. His mouth hung open and he reached out to the teens as he attempted to make his way to them.

"T-Bo?" Seattle asked weakly. Des knew better; Seattle wouldn't do anything. Instead, he cocked his gun and shot right into the walker's head. It fell back and lied still.

"It's back in hell where it belongs," he said quietly. Seattle went pale.

"Let's go- NOW!" Boca hissed. Des grabbed Seattle and dragged her with him. He didn't bother trying to get her into the passenger seat, but rather lifted her into the trunk with himself and Jersey. Just as Boca was about to start driving, a loud screech came from a tall building from across the street. A man in a grey suit with a large wart on his face ran out toward the truck.

"Finally!" he shouted. Seattle held up her gun and shot the man twice. The others gawked at her.

"You know he was alive, right?" Boca asked.

"He looked like he wasn't," Seattle replied, shrugging. "Besides, he's better off dead." Boca shrugged and started the truck. She drove off, the others prepared to shoot any other walkers.

"Why did you kill him if you knew he was alive?" New Jersey asked.

"Because, I needed to know what it felt like to kill."


	3. Chapter 3

Nashville packed the last of her things in the tan knapsack before throwing it over her shoulders. She tied up her long blonde hair and inspected for any bite marks in a mirror. Fortunately, she was clean. After yesterday, she was lucky that she was even able to find food. Being approached by a dozen walkers wasn't really her cup of tea. She wore a denim jacket over a white tank top and bootcut jeans with sneakers. She decided that longer sleeves would be harder for any walker to tear through with its rotting teeth. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the one picture left of her sister. She was wearing a cheerleading uniform, waving her pom poms in the air, her hair in it's usual high ponytail and the always present perky smile she used to loathe. Now she'd kill anyone to find her again.

"Nashie?" She could see Los Angeles' reflection in the mirror. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose by the tape in the middle of them.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Why are we going to San Diego?" he asked. "I know you're looking for Beverly Hills there, but she's in just as much trouble as we are. I know a place better than San Diego."

"Listen here," Nashville told her weaker acquaintance, "I know that there are better places, and it's always better to not travel with groups, but she's our only hope left in the world right now."

"It's because of that picture," Glendale said as he walked into the room. "Whoever is in that picture, Nashie here thinks that Beverly Hills is gonna help us find that person. And when that happens, she'll just ditch us and leave us for the living dead."

"It's not like that!" the girl insisted.

"Then tell us who's in the picture."

"No!"

"Damn it, I'm not gonna let this get us killed!" Glendale pinned Nashville against the wall. They were both equally strong, meaning Glendale didn't get his hands into the right pocket with Nashville's picture. He decided to get his answer by putting a gun to her head.

"Glen, you're getting out of control!" Los Angeles cried.

"Who is that person, and why are you willing to risk all of our lives for them?" he shouted. The blonde began to crumble.

"I'm a twin!" she snapped. Glendale let go of her and she slid down to the floor, crying.

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Her name is Melanie," Nashville explained. "She came here before this all began, so I came here looking for her. That's when I found Los Angeles, and not too much later, we found you, okay? I just want my sister back." Glendale tucked his gun back in the waist of his jeans.

"What's her other name?" he asked sincerely.

"Hollywood." Nashville stood up and pushed past Glendale and ran to Los Angeles. He hugged her and patted her head. Glendale just stared. He couldn't believe that he made her break like that.

"We should leave for San Diego while we still have then chance," Los Angeles said quietly. Nashville stepped back and nodded.

"I found a motorcycle in the garage," she sniffled. "I'll take that. You two take something else. I think there's an Escalade or something down there." Nashville made her way to the garage. The two boys exchanged a look.

"I don't know how we're gonna break it to her," Los Angeles said.

"Break what to her?" Glendale asked.

"There's a Hollywood alive, but it's not the one she's looking for."

* * *

Hollywood stared at a sign that read **WELCOME TO OKLAHOMA!** that was suprisingly still in tact. It was one of the only whole things left in the country. Brooklyn was quiet as he drove, only talking when he asked if she was hungry or tired.

"Damn," he hissed. "We're about to run out of gas."

"I saw a sign," Hollywood spoke up. "Get off here and there's a gas station." Brooklyn nodded and did as she instructed. Sure enough, there was a gas station, with a small convenient store, right in the middle of nowhere.

"You got gas money?" he teased. She giggled at that.

"Which do we get first?" she asked. "Gas or food."

"Gas. If one of them comes, I'd rather starve than be stranded." The two each grabbed a gun and sword for themselves before exitting the car. Brooklyn filled the tank while Hollywood sat on the roof of the car, scanning for any potential walkers. The only benefit she found about them was that they were insanely slow, giving any fit person a huge advantage over them. So far, they didn't have any encounters with a walker on the road. She knew that it wasn't going to last long, and that a convenient store was the perfect place for one to make a surprise appearance.

"So, your sister," Brooklyn said, "I heard you say that you knew she was alive. Do you think you know where she is exactly on the West Coast."

"I've heard many rumors," she said, "about bands of people. There's supposedly three of them out West, but I don't know which one she's in."

"Name some states, muchacha, and maybe we can get a good idea."

"I heard that there's, like, a power couple in San Diego. Him and Beverly Hills."

"That's a good start-"

"But there's also a Los Angeles out there, and I don't know which one it could be." Hollywood shook her head. "I'm not even sure if she's alive."

"I have a friend," Brooklyn said. "She was my best friend. Her name was Jade. She lived in New Jersey, and we hung out every weekend. I hadn't seen her since a few weeks after this all began. We decided that it was best that we seperate, so if one of us dies, the other wouldn't have to witness it." He smiled. "That girl had a heart once this all began. She was bitter, but I could make her smile for real."

"She sounds like a great friend. I hope we find her."

"Me too. I heard that there's a New Jersey, but there are millions of people who could be New Jersey, you know?"

"But don't give up on hope," Hollywood said. "It's what keeps us going."

"You know what kid? You're not that bad for a random hitchhiker.

She giggled. "And you're not bad for a New Yorker." Now he was laughing too.

It was the first time he'd laughed in a long time. And it felt good.


	4. Chapter 4

"Where are we now?" Seattle whimpered. She may have just completed her first kill- on a live man, nonetheless- but she was still a scared child on the inside.

"We're passing through Salem again," New Jersey answered for her. "And we're not gonna make it to the end of California before nightfall, so we'll have to find a safe place to rest before we get there."

"Maybe we can find a farm? Are there any animals left?"

"You know just as well as I do that those damned walkers killed livestock. The only other thing alive other than us are bugs and birds, so unless you want to eat one or the other, we're relying on anything we can find inside of a can or package to eat. Unless you're hiding a chicken under your shirt." These were some of the times that Seattle didn't like New Jersey. She was always so straightforward with things that you wished she could make a joke so she wouldn't make you want to curl up in a ball and cry.

"Stop scaring her," Des Moines ordered. "She's the youngest person left in the world. She's probably scared out of her mind right now."

"I'm nineteen," Seattle said quietly.

"The youngest person I've met is at least twenty," New Jersey scoffed.

"Enough," the only boy said strongly. The three sat in silence until Boca Raton pulled up to a sleazy motel.

"This is gonna be our last rest stop before we hit San Diego," she ordered.

"Where are we?" Des asked.

"Still somewhere in Oregon, but close enough to the California border for me. Now everyone grab a weapon and start searching for any rooms without walkers." The frizzy-haired girl grabbed a hold of Seattle and held the frightened girl close. "I'll stay the night with Seattle and try to toughen the girl up. Des, Jersey, you two stay together tonight, okay?"

"Sure thing." New Jersey cocked her gun and headed for a room. Des sighed and followed. Seattle was dragged to a room on the other side of the building before the doors were opened. The two readied their weapons- a gun for Seattle, a machete for Boca Raton- and slowly opened the door. Every nook and cranny was searched before being deemed safe enough to stay in. A chair was propped up against the door so walkers would have a harder time trying to break through.

"Why me?" Seattle asked. "Why do you want to share a room with me?"

"Well, for one thing, I know that New Jersey scares you, and Des is too fearless," Boca said. "That, and we need to talk about the two of them."

"What about them?"

"I'm afraid that they're starting to grow close," she said. "_Too_ close."

"What do you mean?" Seattle was too naïve at times.

"Because back in your town, when I went to get them out of the back of the truck, I saw them cuddling." Boca let out a high-pitched giggle. She gasped and covered her mouth.

"Were you just giggling?" Seattle asked, grinning.

"No!"

"Yes, you were, I heard you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" There was the high-pitched voice again. Seattle's eyebrows went up in amusement.

"I didn't know that was your real voice," she said.

"Shh!" Boca looked around the room as if someone else were there. "Listen, I'm trying not to be ther person I was before. I used to be a really naïve person who'd take everything the wrong way. I would've ended up dead long before if I hadn't acted like a different person. And the real person I am stays a secret between the two of us, okay?"

"Okay." Seattle played with the fringes of the throw pillows on the bed. "What were you like before all of this?"

"I don't want to talk about it," was her bitter response.

"Why not?"

"Because I just don't want to talk about!" Boca Raton threw the covers over her head and lied down on her side. "Good night!"

"Good night then..." Seattle slid under the covers on her own bed and shut her eyes.

She used to be the one who dated a different boy every night. Now there were barely any left in the world. If Des and Jersey were a couple, not only would that be one less single guy, but two more people going against the system and committing to each other. And even though Boca Raton wouldn't appreciate it, Seattle thought it was sweet. They found something special in a hopeless wasteland; love.

* * *

"What should I call you?" Spencer asked. "Beverly Hills or Trina?"

"Trina," Trina answered. "Only because no one else in the world is going to be around to learn it. But if someone else shows up, then call me Beverly."

"Why would someone else show up?" the older man asked again. He was responded to by his girlfriend pulling out a scrapbook from her bookbag. "What's that?"

"This isn't Twenty Questions," she teased. "But these are clippings of articles from the beginning of this. I thought it'd be useful, and it is." She opened it up to the first page. A picture of the disgusting walkers roaming the streets of Hong Kong were pictures under the headline **THE DEAD RISE IN CHINA**. The next stated how it'd spread across Asia within weeks, then Africa and Europe by the end of the first month. The next page said how it spread across the country, starting in New York, Philadelphia, San Fransisco, and Las Vegas first. Then Canada was next, slowly making its way to Alaska and Mexico. The end of the second month made it clear that the only safe place left was Antartica, which no one was capable of reaching.

"What's the point of this?" Spencer asked.

"Because there's articles about people too." And Trina flipped to the next page where there was a picture of Trina swinging an ax. Then one of her shooting three of them. The next had a picture of a guy being claimed as the last Canadian left. And a girl with red hair who was nameless. An African American young adult who had been able to hide from the walkers since day one without a single confrontation. The article Spencer saw of the girl Hollywood- or Tori, as he remembered Trina saying- begging to find her big sister again. A blonde girl posed with a machete who was considered the person you wanted to be stuck with as the world ended. Another artilce listed her most well-known kills. Spencer let out a low whistle.

"Impressive," he remarked.

That's when the familiar sounds echoed outside. The moans of the walkers rose up into the loft. A chill went down Trina and Spencer's spines. They grabbed their guns and slowly made their way onto the fire escape. Sure enough, five of them had congregated on the ground below. Flesh torn, limbs broken or missing, jaws hanging open involuntarily, the lust and hunger for live meat in their grasp. None of the walkers had taken notice yet of the two adults above them yet.

The sound of a motorcycle caught their attention too. The dead and living looked to see a figure riding the vehicle closer, the large sharp weapon in her hand held out to the side. The walkers dragged their worn feet to the bike, determined for a chance to bite the pale human riding it. In what seemed like a second, all five of them were headless, chopped to several pieces that a pickup truck had the pleasure of running over. Both stopped and the biker put out the kickstand. Two boys exitted the truck. The motorist took off her helmet to reveal a long blonde curly mane that Spencer and Trina recognized.

"Hey!" Trina called out. The trio looked up to the older two.

"It's her," the boy with glasses gasped. They made their way up the fire escape to reach Spencer and Trina.

"Are you Beverly Hills?" the girl asked.

"And you're Nashville," Trina replied. Nashville nodded.

"That's Glendale and Los Angeles." The two behind her nodded when their names were mentioned.

"I'm Sp- San Diego," Spencer said, almost slipping and revealing his real name.

"I guess that you're as good as they've said you are," Trina continued. "Good work."

"Like you're not famous," Glendale said. "We've been looking for you." Trina shot Spencer an _I-told-you_ look.

"Well you came to the right place," she said. "Come on in and make yourselves at home."

Home. The one thing no one had anymore. The teens walked on it and Spencer and Trina gave each other another look. They could tell what the other was thinking instantly; one false move and they were outted.


	5. Chapter 5

_**(A/N: Happy early birthday to Liz Gillies! She's gonna be nineteen as of tomorrow, the 26th!)**_

* * *

Des didn't know what time it was exactly when he woke up, but since there was no light coming through the window blinds, he figured it was still night. Tealight candles that he had found long before the two girls were lit around the room. Wallpaper was smeared with blood and peeling off of the walls. The carpet felt scratchy under bare feet. Two bags leaned against the wall by the door. A trail of clothes led to the bed, where Des and New Jersey were lying, only covered by each other. New Jersey awoke without his knowledge and planted a kiss on his lips.

"It's insane that out of all of us, you chose me," she whispered to him. "You could have Boca Raton or Seattle, and you chose me."

"Maybe it's because I see something in you that I can't see in the other two girls," he muttered, stiffling a moan as he felt her nibbling on his ear.

It was true. He did like New Jersey more than the other two girls. Boca Raton was too strict and short-tempered in anyone's opinion, but there was something else about her that made her seem fake to Des. Seattle was too scared and childish. She may be nineteen, but Des was twenty-one, while his companions were all twenty as well. He wasn't sure if anyone in the country left was over the age of thirty. But New Jersey had the spark that ignited his heart. Maybe it was her straight-forward personality? Her beauty? The way she was making him feel at the moment...?

"Oh, Des," she groaned into his shoulder. He grimaced; he didn't like having her call out his fake name. It hit his ear wrong.

"My name is Beck," he said. New Jersey picked up her head.

"That's a great name," she told him, smiling. She rested her chin on his chest. "I'm Jade."

"Jade," he repeated. Beck liked the name. It was a beautiful gemstone, just like how he felt Jade was.

"Mmhm." She put her ear against his chest and closed her eyes as she listened to his heart beat. She liked feeling something real everyone once in a while.

"I could be completely insane," Beck said, "but... I love you, Jade."

"It's not insane," Jade assured him. She kissed him softly. "I love you too," she whispered against his cheek.

"I'm glad that the world brought us together," he continued. "I know that there's barely a dozen people left here, yet we're both here, lying on a bed, and in love with each other. It's like whoever made this madness happen spared us because he knew that we belonged with each other."

"That's a tiny bit crazy," Jade giggled. "But I know what you mean. I only had my best friend before this all began. That was like loving a brother. But you, Beck... you're so much more than that. You're all I have faith in the world. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."

Beck gripped her wrists and stared into her eyes. Near black met piercing blue. "You will never lose me, and I will never lose you. No matter what, we'll always have each other, you hear me?"

"I trust you," she said. "Isn't that what love is all about?" They shared one last kiss before she snuggled against his chest and fell back asleep. Beck kissed her forehead.

He loved Jade. Not New Jersey- Jade.

* * *

Hollywood sat at the edge of the king-sized bed she was sharing with Brooklyn. The sun had finally risen. They were in a five-star hotel in the middle of Oklahoma. They hadn't come across a single walker yet. It amazed her how good Brooklyn was at avoiding them.

She felt a void inside of her. She felt unloved. When there were more people walking around, there were people adoring her left and right. Boys wanted to date her. Girls wanted to be her. She was everybody's friend. Not to mention a great family with a loving mother, a model father, and a sister who was always there for her.

Now there was no one but the stranger sleeping in the bed she was sitting on the edge of.

"It's like there's no one on the planet around to love you," she whispered. It was a habit she had formed over the past several months; talking to herself. It comforted her. "Trina isn't here anymore. Mom and Dad... are long gone. My friends aren't human anymore, if they aren't actually dead. And I'm here with a complete stranger that I'm trusting my life with. Am I crazy?"

"Only if you respond to yourself," Brooklyn teased. Hollywood jumped fifty feet in the air; she didn't hear or feel him wake up.

"You scared me," she said bitterly.

"Well, to be perfectly honest, you were starting to scare me for a minute." Brooklyn moved to sit next to Hollywood. "Holly- can I call you that?- you're not the only one whose life is messed up now. You've been sitting in your miseries for the longest time because there's no one around to feel sorry for you. I'm not gonna give you a cookie and massage your feet for you. You need to get off that bony ass of yours and stop feeling sorry for yourself."

Hollywood was stunned. She wasn't used to being spoken to in such a manner. He was blunt. He didn't hold back. She didn't really appreciate it. But she understood where he was coming from; everyone was going through what she was going through. She didn't have much of a right to act prissy at all. And he was going to remind her of that.

"Do you want to use the shower first?" he asked. "I checked, and there's running water here. I raided one of the maid carts and got some soap and shampoo. There should be towels too." Hollywood didn't respond. "Alright, then I'm gonna shower first. It might be the last shower we have for a few days, just saying." With that, he went into the bathroom. A small click let Hollywood know that he locked her out of there too.

She was twenty-two years old. She shouldn't be acting this way. Her twenty-three-year-old sister wouldn't act this way. Hollywood read the articles; her sister- or "Beverly Hills", as the tabloids named her- was famous for her kills. She on the other side of the country rekilling the dead. And here she was, feeling sorry for herself, while she was stuck with a man who told her right to her face that she needed to stop.

And at that moment, Hollywood finally stopped.


	6. Chapter 6

Glendale stared at Nashville. There were times that the two of them were at each other's throats, such as the other day when he screamed at her about her dead sister. But now there she was, lying on her back with the sunlight peeking through the window blinds and hitting her face at the most perfect angle. Her hair shone like strands of gold. Her pale skin seemed to glitter, like in those vampire movies his ex-girlfriends used to drag him to. She made those vampires look like nothing. Then again, he'd rather be attacked by something with fangs than a walker.

She opened her eyes, the most beautiful blue Glendale had ever seen. She looked over to him and smiles.

"Morning," she said as she yawned. She sat up and stretched her arms up, revealing her stomach a bit. Glendale bit his lips.

"Beverly said that she wanted to talk to us," he told his friend. Nashville nodded.

"She said that there were clothes here too, right?" she asked. He nodded and watched as she walked over to the dresser and sorted through one of the drawers. She picked up a ruffled black skirt and smiled. Then she grabbed a purple tank top and shut the drawer.

"I didn't think you'd be much of a skirt person," Glendale said, smirking at her choices. He heard her snort a laugh with her back turned to him.

"I'm not," Nashville replied as she shimmied out of her jeans. Glendale snuck one glance at her panties, which read _I (heart) Vegas_ across the butt. They were soon covered with the black fabric. She pulled off her t-shirt, and Glendale gulped; she was braless.

That explained why her back was turned to him.

"I'm flattered that your staring, Glen," Nashville pointed out as she slipped her tank top on.

"How do you know I'm not looking out the window?" he countered.

"Because there's a mirror and I can see your reflection."

_Busted_.

"Maybe if you weren't such a damn tease, that wouldn't be a problem," Glendale growled. "Two can play at that game." He took off his shirt and stared directly at Nashville's reflection. Through the mirror they made eye contact. She bit her lip and tucked her blonde hair in front of her face.

"Why are you such a prick?" she asked.

"And you are a little bitch."

_Slap._

Right across the face. By Nashville. Glendale held his left cheek and slowly moved his jaw. It was going to bruise without a doubt. But he never expected her to lash out like that.

"There's beer in the pantry," she said quietly. But instead of leaving the room, she reached out underneath of the bed and pulled out a bottle of vodka. She unscrewed the cap and drank straight from the bottle.

"If I wasn't mistaken, I'd say you were either Russian or an alcoholic," Glendale said bitterly as he rummaged through the drawers for guy clothes. Plaid pants. Torn jeans. A pasty green button up shirt. He grimaced, but it'd have to do for now.

"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not," Nashville replied. "Why do you care?" She screwed the cap back on and placed it back in its hiding spot. She stood up and began to pace. Glendale picked up her jeans off of the floor and took the picture from the pocket. Two girls that looked exactly like Nashville, hugging and smiling for the camera. He flipped it over and read the caption:

**ME AND SAM 4-29-12.**

In loopy cursive. He just knew it was her sister's handwriting. And that Nashville's name was Sam.

"You know, curiosity kills the cat," she warned him.

"Thanks, _Sam_," Glendale replied, testing out her name. He really liked it. It seemed to fit the tiny blonde.

"Are you happy now?" Sam asked. "Now you know my real name. Is that all you wanted in life?"

"All I wanted in life was to live it to the fullest, but that's not gonna happen, now is it?" He let out a laugh. "Why are you talking to me? Shouldn't you be crying to Los Angeles?"

"Los Angeles? Is that what this is about?" Sam cornered Glendale. "Los Angeles is my _cousin_."

"What?"

"Yeah, we're cousins! Why do you think me and him are so close?" She fell onto the bed and sighed. "I know that Melanie is gone. I don't want to admit it, but I know she's not alive. And Los Angeles is the only family I have left. So don't give me any crap for being close to him, okay? It's hard enough that I lost her." Sam stalked out of the room and slammed the bedroom door shut. Los Angeles was awake and stared at her from the couch. He held out his arms and held her close as she cried in his arms.

"I know," he whispered. "It's hard for me too."

* * *

Boca Raton woke up to loud knocking on the door. Seattle was still fast asleep beside her. She groaned and rolled out of bed to answer it. Beck and Jade burst through and shut the door behind them quickly.

"What the hell?" Boca hissed. Seattle woke up and rubbed her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"They're out there," Jade said. The other two girls became alert at this.

"How many?" Boca Raton asked.

"I wasn't able to get a count before getting here," Beck admitted. "But it wasn't a small number. And by now, getting out of here is going to be an issue. And they're limping their way here. _Now!_"

"Oh my god!" Seattle sat up quickly and started putting on her sneakers. Boca sat by the window and peered through the blinds. Sure enough, there was at least a dozen walkers outside. Between them and the truck.

"Damn it to hell," she groaned. "Everyone grab a weapon or three. We're gonna have to fight out way through them."

"What?" Seattle cried. The others shushed her.

"Do you _want_ them to break down the door?" Jade hissed.

"Well they're gonna find us one way or another," Beck said quietly. He pulled out his revolver. "And we're just gonna have to deal with it."

"Alright, listen up," Boca ordered. "I left the keys in the truck in case something like this happened. The first person there has to start the car. Can you all drive?"

"No," Seattle winced.

"Of course," Jade muttered. Beck elbowed her.

"Then if you get there first, start the truck and keep off any walkers. If anyone else gets there first or second, you're driving. The other two or three can hop in the back and kill walkers until they're gone. And if you're bit, don't you dare try getting in that truck, you here me?"

"Yes," the others answered. Boca shot Beck and Jade a look. She was still wary of them.

"Everyone grab your shit and get ready." Boca put her bookbag on and stood by the door. "On the count of five."

"One," Seattle said.

"Two," Beck added.

"Three," Jade said.

"Four..." Boca Raton whispered. She gripped the doorknob until her knuckles were white. She had to open it though.

"Five!"


	7. Chapter 7

_**(A/N: This chapter is only dealing with the four people we left off with, and that's because this is a bit of a heavy chapter for there to bring in the others, so bear with me. We'll get back to the other two groups after this.)**_

* * *

Seattle was shaking. She hated confronting walkers. When she saw T-Bo, her heart sank. He was one of the most fun-loving and completely wacky people that she'd ever known. In the back of her mind, she knew she should have saw that coming. Besides, she killed her nasty doorman a few minutes later. If she could kill a live man in cold blood, wouldn't she be able to kill things that were already dead.

She looked to see what the others had for weapons. Beck was armed with his revolver, which he had tucked away in the back of his jeans, and an ax. Jade had a machete. Boca Raton had her rifle and a backup gun concealed somewhere on her.

All Seattle had was a metal bat because she always got the short straw. The benefit of being nineteen.

"Five!" Boca swung the door open.

The walkers weren't exactly close, but they were three yards away from the door. And when it flew open, they all looked at the group. They limped their way toward the four young adults, their arms reaching for the warm, live flesh. Seattle's body inched back and held her bat up higher.

It was Beck who made the first move. He pulled out his gun and shot one of them in the head. It fell back and slowed down a few others. Boca then got the initiative to shoot another one, blowing its brains everywhere. Now they were all growing closer. The living decided it was time to make a move outside of their confined area and into the open. Seattle was too terrified to move until she heard the others shouting at her. With that, she barrelled out the door and ran right for the truck. Boca Raton had already made her way in and was starting the car. Seattle jumped right into the back and took notice of three walkers heading right for her. She winced; she scraped her knee when she was getting onto the truck.

"Die!" She swung her bat around like a madman. She was able to push them back, but they continued pursuing her. They lashed at her, unable to reach her though. It wasn't until Boca Raton shot them all in the head when they stopped attacking the girl. Their blood splattered all over the teenager, and although she was disgusted by that fact, she was grateful that she was saved.

"Get in!" Boca Raton shouted to Beck and Jade. They joined Seattle in the back of the truck as their leader sped away.

"That was a close one," Seattle sighed. She noticed the scared looks on the other two's faces. "What?"

"Your leg is bleeding," Beck said. Seattle looked, and sure enough, it was bleeding.

"I scraped it on the truck," she said.

"Good," Jade said. "The last thing we need it someone infecting all of us."

"It's all good. We're all fine now."

* * *

Several hours later, the group decided to rest in a small city outside of San Francisco. This time, they chose a Days Inn so it was a little better than a sleazy motel. They chose the first floor for a better escape. Yes, there were a few more walkers around, but they weren't too hard to kill. Seattle had become weaker, Jade noticed. Her leg was beginning to bruise from where she hit it and she was shivering in the ninety degree weather. Beck just held her back from the sick girl, saying that he didn't want her to come down with whatever illness had suddenly come over her. Once the truck was parked at the hotel and after Beck got out of the back, Seattle threw up all over Jade.

"What the hell!" she cried. She threw off her shirt, not caring that she was revealing her bra to the others.

"Why'd you throw up everywhere?" Beck snapped. Seattle started crying at that as she tried to stand up.

"I can't move," she wailed. "My legs don't work."

"Shit," Boca Raton hissed. "Why didn't you guys tell me that this was happening?"

"What do you mean?" Jade asked. "She just scraped her leg and now it's like she has some vomiting disease!"

"Yea, she's got a disease alright," Boca said, shaking her head. "She's infected now."

"What?" the others exclaimed. The younger girl started crying more now.

"When you have an open wound, you become more vulnerable," the leader explained, examining the girl closer. "It's been about ten hours, so she's dangerous to us now. She's already bruised at the infected area. Next, she has a fever and the chills. She can't control her gag reflexes. Then she's paralyzed. After that is a coma, then death... then, she's one of them."

"I-I want Spencer!" Seattle cried.

"She's still looking for her brother," Beck said. He was in shock that had happened.

"Well, thanks for the puke everywhere," Jade grumbled. It was on her arms, pants, face, and chest too. Boca Raton grabbed Beck and pulled him far away from her.

"What's your deal?" he snapped.

"Don't touch her!" she cried. "She's infected too! Seattle's vomit is infected too. So she spread it... to Jersey."

"What?" Jade asked weakly. "So what, now I'm gonna be a zombie too?"

"No."

"No?" they all asked Boca.

"There's a way to avoid becoming a walker." She pulled out a gun from inside the truck. "You have to be braindead." The other two girls gasped and shared a look. Jade was trying hard to stay strong.

"I'm still fine though," she pleaded.

"I think it'd be easier to just pull Seattle from the back of the truck so this can be over before you get us killed too," Boca Raton said with no emotion. Jade just nodded and obeyed her.

"You can't be serious," Beck said, almost laughing. "We have to shoot them?"

"It's not always going to be this easy in life, Des! I had to kill my own brother like this!" Boca bit her lip; she never liked to think about that day.

Seattle tried to help out with Jade carrying her, but with her paralysis, she was a ragdoll. The two girls kneeled down in the parking lot and took their final breaths.

"We'll do Seattle first," Beck decided. When the girl gasped, he said, "Only because if we don't, you might kill us."

"Can I have a dying wish?" she asked meekly. "When you go to San Diego, can you give my brother my bag? I want him to have my stuff."

"Sure, sweetie," Boca said, smiling. "What's your name?"

"Carly. Carly Shay."

"That's a fitting name for you."

_BANG_.

Carly's body fell back as she bled out everywhere.

"Please don't!" Jade cried. Boca raised an eyebrow.

"Why not?" she questioned.

"I want Des to do it," she answered. Beck's eyes widened at that.

"Me?" he asked. Instead of answering, a gun was thrusted into his hands. He looked at Jade, who stared at the ground. She was in hysterics now. He knew why she wanted this; because she loved him. Slowly, he cocked the gun at her. His hand shook. His finger was against the trigger, but his mind wouldn't let him pull it.

"It's less painful for her to die now than later," Boca said coldly. "The sooner, the better." Beck nodded.

"I love you, Jade."

_BANG._


	8. Chapter 8

**WELCOME TO SANTA FE!**

**POPULATION: 67,947**

To Brooklyn, that sign wasn't comforting. Because he knwe that all 67,947 of them were the infected bodies of dead men and women trying their hardest to get to him and eat him alive. Or Hollywood.

He looked at her. She was staring at the window with an everlasting bored expression on her face. She had given up on trying to find a working radio station, determined that there was one still up and running. After a heated argument between them over the subject, it was proven that every station that existed was nothing but static.

He wanted to make her at least smile. But ever since he snapped at her for pitying no one but herself, she had that frown glued onto her tan face. Her eyes didn't even give a subtle hint of emotion; just a blank stare.

"You know," he began, trying to create a conversation between the two of them, "You're the first live person I've talked to in months."

Nothing.

"And that you're company is keeping me from going insane."

Blink. Sigh. Still no words left Hollywood's lips.

"Now I feel like I'm imagining you because you're being really quiet, and it's starting to freak me out a bit."

She bit her lip. It was a start.

"One time, Jade told me that whenever I was alone, I'd turn into my grandmother. She was a crazy lady, and I didn't want to believe it. But when I'm alone, I find out that I tend to talk to myself. Sort of coaxing myself. Telling the air that I'm not insane. But this entire place is making me go crazier by the minute, you know?"

Silence from the girl. He needed to say _something_ that'd make her talk.

"I've never had to kill a walker. I've been driving to any place that's walker-free. I've sort of got a knack for that, as you can see, since you probably haven't dealt with any since you've met me, right?"

She still stared out the window at the crumbling buildings.

"That means that when you do confront one, you won't know how to react," she said quietly. "You'll have a better chance of pissing yourself than remembering to pull out even a tiny pocketknife."

Brooklyn clenched his jaw and stared ahead. He didn't want to admit that she was right.

One of the buildings was on fire. It must've been burning for weeks without anyone to put it out. It didn't rain much in this area to begin with. It was practically a desert around here.

Words were painted onto buildings everywhere.

**HELP US!**

**SAVE US!**

**SOS!**

**SURVIVORS HERE!**

**GET US BEFORE THEY DO!**

**WE'RE ALL IN HELL!**

That last one was the only one that was true, Brooklyn decided. They were in hell. They were just the only ones who were able to truly experience it anymore.

"When I was little, I wanted to visit Santa Fe," he tried again. "And now that I'm here, I'm not so sure that I want to ever come back here again."

Now she cracked a smile. A very tiny one, but still a smile.

"_Let's open up a restaurant in Santa Fe_," he sang softly. He nudged Hollywood. "I know you want some kind of music around here," he said.

She rolled her eyes and sat up straighter.

"_Our labors would reap financial gains,_" she harmonized.

And now she had a smile on her face. Brooklyn cheered in his mind.

"_We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe,_" he continued. "_And save from devastation our brains._"

The irony.

"_Save our brains,_" Hollywood added.

"_We'll pack up all out junk and fly so far away!_" the duo belted out. "_Devote ourselves to projects that sell! We'll open up a restaurant in Santa Fe, forget this cold Bohemian hell._"

"I would've never taken you for a Broadway girl," Brooklyn said, raising his eyebrows at the Latina.

"I used to be a singer back in Florida," Hollywood explained. "I was going to finally apply to Julliard this year, after I'd saved up enough money to go there, but I wasn't able to when... this began." She leaned her head back again and sighed. "And since when do you know Broadway, Brooklyn?"

"Girl, think about my name," the boy laughed. "I was born and raised right by Broadway. Jade and I used to go see shows every summer. I don't think that there's one we haven't seen. Theater is my life... at least it _was_."

He missed it dearly.

"You're not as uptight and snappy as I thought you were," Hollywood said, smiling. "I'm glad that I'm stuck driving across the country with you."

"And you're not as annoying and whiny as I'd expected," Brooklyn added. "And if we're stuck together until we're one hundred, then so be it!"

And they laughed together. Oh, how he'd missed having someone to laugh with.

* * *

"We need to have some ground rules around this loft if we're gonna survive this," Trina instructed as she glanced at the three newcomers. Sam was curled up next to Los Angeles, who was running his hands through her long blonde curls. Glendale had his arms crossed and a dark scowl on his face. Spencer just sighed.

"This should be fun," he muttered.

"You two aren't...?" Trina pointed at the cousins with a look on her face.

"No!" they both cried.

"He's my cousin," Sam said quickly. "He's the only family I have left."

"Okay."

Trina understood what it was like to have only one person left in the world to rely on. She had Tori. Spencer had Carly. Sam had her cousin. And Glendale...

"No official names," she continued. "Only your original city. That way we don't get too close to each other and cry when the next one of us ends up dead."

"Way to jump to conclusions," Sam snorted. "With that attitude, one of us will be dead within a few days."

"Way to jump to conclusions," Glendale mimicked in a high-pitched voice. A pillow was chucked at his face and he fell onto the floor.

"And another thing," Trina added, "We need to be completely amicable with each other. No fighting! If we start fighting, one thing leads to another, and then many conclusions can be jumped to, okay?" She watched the two nod at her and then make faces at each other.

She felt like she was living with two toddlers.

"And above all, keep any relationships you're thinking of to a minimal..." She glared at all three boys this time.

"Wait, why me?" Los Angeles asked. "I'm straight! And I don't do incest!"

"It's just in case any of you guys have no self control," Trina said.

"And this is why I'm glad I'm no longer the only girl around," Sam smirked as she rested her feet on the coffee table in front of her. She almost knocked over her beer.

"We should be fine otherwise," the older girl concluded.

"Wait, what about the two of you?" Glendale asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid. There's two twenty-something-year-olds living in a loft together for a long time, and no one else thinks that something hasn't happened yet?" Glendale shook his head. "You sure that we're the ones who need the lecture on self control here?"

"There's nothing going on between me and San Diego," she said sternly. She hated calling Spencer San Diego, but if it kept them a secret, then she knew she had to.

"Whatever you say." The boy got up and went back to his room. Los Angeles said he was going to take a shower and went to do so. Spencer went to make sure there was still food left to eat. That left the girls alone.

"So," Sam said, "what do you guys do for fun around here?"


	9. Chapter 9

Beck looked over to see Boca Raton crying. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the road. She'd been crying more than he has for the past hour. They decided to keep on driving further south to Los Angeles before even thinking twice about staying at the Days Inn. The memory of shooting two innocent girls haunted them. And the gunshots drew more attention from many nearby walkers. Boca Raton ended up leaning out the window and slicing them to several pieces while Beck drove. And now, here was his fearless leader, crying and clutching onto Carly's bag.

"Can you stop crying?" he asked. "It's starting to piss me off."

"Did you know that Carly was a web show host?" Boca sobbed. Beck slammed his foots on the brakes. Had they not been seatbelted in, the would've flew through the windshield.

"Did you know that I had just killed the love of my life?" he snapped.

"Jade would have become sick," the girl winced. "I've seen it happen. I had to shoot my brother between the eyes because he had become one of them in less than a day. He was the only person I had left in the world before I found Jade, and now he's gone too! So you aren't the only who had to kill someone you loved! Because life isn't always going to give you lemons!"

"Oh, I'm sorry that I didn't have to shoot my brother! I had to leave freaking Canada and come here because America was supposedly safer! And look what the hell happened there."

"It's not my fault that you chose to fall in love with her," Boca cried. "I warned you all that something like this could happen. Those are the consequences of love. I knew there was something between you and Jade, but I didn't want it to end like that!"

"And you wanted it to end?" Beck let out a laugh. "You're insane."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Beck gave her a look. The voice she'd just used was many octaves higher than the one he's used to hearing. It was almost like a squeak. Which she let out as she covered her mouth.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing, I swear!" She used the high-pitched voice again.

"Who the hell are you?" Beck asked.

"Fine, do you want to know?" Boca Raton moved onto her knees and looked him in the eye. "My name is Caterina Valentine, but everyone calls me Cat. I was born and raised in Louisiana before this started. I'm bipolar and I have a natural high voice. And this isn't my usual hair color. My hair is supposed to be red velvet cake colored and straight, but my hair has become messy over time and I haven't had the chance to redye my hair in months!"

Beck stared at her. He hadn't expected _that_ as an answer. Or the giggle that came afterwards.

"Well then," he said, letting out a low whistle. "I guess I should say sorry, Cat."

"Don't be," Cat replied, shaking her head. "Ever since I killed my brother a few months ago, my personality just changed. I became level-headed and tough and all of these things that I never was before! I'm sorry I made you kill Jade."

"And I'm sorry that I'm taking out my frustration on you."

The two hugged. Cat slightly flinched; she wasn't used to hugging people anymore.

"Let's just try to make it to LA before nightfall," Beck said, smiling. Cat's eyes widened.

"Floor it," she demanded. "Floor it now!" Beck did so and looked to see that as they were driving away, they were being pursued by a small group of walkers.

Cat smiled at him as she grabbed a gun and started shooting them.

Now she was showing her true colors. And it felt great.

* * *

Sam waltzed into the living room of the loft with a wicked grin on her face and a deck of cards in her hands. Fortunately, the others were in the room as well. They were all reading books, or picking dirt from their fingernails in Trina's case. She looked up at Sam with a confused look.

"What's got you so cheery suddenly?" she asked.

"Because I thought that we should do something entertaining!" Sam slammed the cards down on the table. "Strip poker."

"I'm in!" Trina moved to sit down on the floor. The three men looked at the two girls.

"What's the rules?" Los Angeles asked.

"It's like poker, but instead of betting poker chips, you bet your clothes," Sam explained. "The winner is the last one with clothes on."

In an instance, all three boys dropped what they were reading and gathered around the coffee table.

"I really hope Sam wins," Los Angeles said as his cousin shuffled the deck.

"Why?" Spencer asked the cards were dealt.

"Because I'd rather _not_ see my cousin naked!" he cried.

"Same here, Robbie," Sam whispered into his ear.

Within a few rounds, all socks and/or shoes were taken off. Now it was between Robbie and Spencer.

"I bet my shirt," Robbie said with confidence.

"I bet my pants," Spencer replied, a sinister grin plastered to his face. "Read it and weep, nerd!" He threw down his cards to show a four-of-a-kind with all sevens. "Take off that shirt!"

Robbie revealed his cards. A royal flush.

"What?" Spencer shot up. Of course, as in his nature, his pants fell down on their own. The other four gave him a funny look.

"I'm not sure if he did that on purpose or not," Sam said.

After a few more rounds, everyone was down to their underwear. Robbie was smart enough to have an undershirt, yet was wearing his Spongebob underwear. Now it was Glendale and Sam.

"I'd rather not be the first loser," Glendale groaned. He saw his cards; two pairs. He wasn't sure if that'd be enough. Sam was murderous at this game, and her overcompetitive behavior didn't help out.

"How about a compromise?" Sam suggested. "If you lose this hand, you could just tell me something instead."

"What?"

"You're name."

The others gasped.

"Just strip, Glendale," Los Angeles said. "Really."

Glendale thought about it. He looked at Sam's hand, reached out toward his.

"Deal," he agreed as he shook it vigorously. He laid down his cards and looked at hers.

Full house.

"So, what is it?" Sam asked, grinning. Glendale looked around at the others before leaning in to Sam and whispering in her ear;

"Freddie."

Sam nodded and pulled away.

"A name fit for a nub," she ridiculed. She picked up the cards and shuffled again.

She really liked his name. Freddie. It fit him like a glove. She couldn't put a finger on it, but it seemed right.

And in the end, thanks to her many card shark uncles, her skills led her to victory.


	10. Chapter 10

Hollywood left the bathroom at the new hotel they were staying at in Phoenix, Arizona. So far, Brooklyn had been true to his word; he was great at avoiding walkers. She hadn't seen a single one in the past four days. It was if there were none wherever they go. She smiled at the African-American boy, who was lying on his back on the king sized bed they were sharing, wearing blue boxers and a white undershirt. Hollywood was in grey sweatpants and a pink t-shirt. She walked over and lied down next to him.

"We're almost to California," Brooklyn said, grinning. "I can't believe that we made it this far..."

"What if we run into them there?" Hollywood asked. "What if the second we cross the state border, a swarm comes out of nowhere and hunts us down?"

Brooklyn was silent. He was unable to answer.

"I know that you're scared," she continued. "It's okay. We all get scared of some things once in a while." She chuckled. "My sister Trina isn't easy to scare though. After she accidentally walked in on our grandmother naked, it was impossible to scare her even a little bit."

Brooklyn smiled at that.

"Then she must still be alive," he said. "Fearlessness is the key to survival."

"So is having someone at our side the whole time," Hollywood pointed out. She shook her head. "Before you picked me up off of the side of the road in Florida, I didn't have anyone for a long time. I used to be with this one guy, Sikowitz, though. He was really insane. He said that the coconut milk he drank would give him visions."

"Did they?"

"He had one that I would run into my best friend on the road," Hollywood continued. "He said that I'd run into someone named André." She flipped onto her side to face Brooklyn. "Is he right?"

"Yes," André replied. "I'm André."

Hollywood lied her head on his chest and closed her eyes, smiling. "They call me Tori."

* * *

"I can't believe that there's an Ontario in California," Beck wondered aloud as he crawled into bed next to Cat. She was clutching onto the sheets tight.

"We're gonna be in San Diego tomorrow," she whispered.

"Yes, yes we are."

"Carly's brother is there."

"Uh-huh, that's what she said."

"And how am I going to tell him that I'm the reason his baby sister is dead?" Cat sat up and looked at Beck, tears forming in her big brown eyes.

"It could've happened to any of us," Beck said softly.

"And if I could, I would go back in time and stop us from going to that stupid hotel! I would make it so that Carly wouldn't get infected and then pass it to Jade, and they'd be here and we'd all be together, and..."

Now Cat was hyperventilating. Beck had to help her calm down and take normal breaths of air.

"Do you believe in destiny?" he asked. Cat shook her head. "Well, the universe wants certain things to happen for a reason. It was like Carly and Jade... they were meant to die. And if they didn't, one of them would have broken their neck or been eaten alive the next day. It was bound to happen."

"So what does the universe have in store for us?" the girl whispered timidly. She bit her lip in fear of his response.

"I don't know," Beck answered truthfully. Cat lied back down and sighed.

"I was afraid you were going to say that."

* * *

Robbie walked around the loft absent-mindedly. He walked past Trina and Spencer's room. He peeked to see the two of them sound asleep. He walked past the room Sam and Freddie were sharing. Sam was sitting on the edge of the bed. She placed a kiss on her treasured photograph and held it to her chest for a few moments, muttering something unintelligible to Robbie. She then tucked it away and threw herself under the covers. Freddie was sitting by the window. Robbie opted to sit in front of him.

"You're cousins, huh?" Freddie said quietly. "You didn't need to keep it a secret from me or anything. It's totally cool with me."

"But for Sam, she's already stressed," Robbie said. "She and I... we didn't even know the other was alive under we stumbled upon each other by chance."

He remembered that day. He was at Sherwood High School nearly three weeks after the apocalypse began, searching for some kind of chemicals he could use to make his own homemade bombs. He heard the cocking of a gun and was ordered to raise his hands and turn around very slowly. Once he did, there was Sam, who looked relieved and hugged him immediately. She said that Melanie was outside waiting for her, and that there was room for one more with them.

Before they made it to the front doors, walkers had swarmed the car Melanie was in, breaking in and taking her down with them.

Robbie had to drag Sam out through the other side of the school and made their way on foot for a few days, running for their lives and using anything and everything as a weapon. They looted homes and stores for essentials. It took another week and a half just to find a car that they could drive.

That all happened before Freddie came into the picture.

"It must be rough for her," Freddie sighed. "I kind of feel bad for snapping on her."

"She'll move past that, trust me," Robbie assured him. "Just do me one favor, okay?"

"Sure, what?"

"If she screams in the middle of the night, try to comfort her."

Robbie was used to the screaming. It was a recurring nightmare of Sam's that involved watching Melanie being torn limb to limb, eaten alive by walkers, while Sam is helpless and can't save her. Freddie had never witnessed it, but Robbie had, and he would calm her down and remind her that it was all just a dream.

"Sure," Freddie said, smiling. "Goodnight."

Robbie gave him a small wave as he went to his room. Robbie lied down on the couch.

Only if it were all just a dream...


	11. Chapter 11

_**(A/N: Sorry about the shortness of the chapter; I have a smidge of writer's block.)**_

* * *

André awoke with the sun shining right in his eyes. He shielded it with his hand and sat up to a position where he wasn't blinded by the rays. Tori yawned and stretched as she woke up. She was the one who got up to shut the blinds. Before she did, she looked out the window and frowned.

"How many times have you ever faced a walker?" she asked André.

"Never," he answered. "Why?"

"Well, let's just say that there's always a first time for everything."

André's eyes widened and rushed to the window beside Tori. Outside were a few walkers right by their car. He gulped; it was _very_ ironic that their only hope of escaping was now blockaded by what he feared most.

Well, after his crazy grandmother.

The teenage boy backed away to the wall. He slid his back against it to the floor and rested his head on his knees. He felt Tori's eyes watching him as he rocked himself and fought back the tears forming. He wasn't ready to face the walkers. Not now, not ever.

"André?" Tori kneeled next to him and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

André picked up his head and shook it slowly. "I never told you the whole truth. I have encountered walkers... Once."

"Was it that bad?"

"It was the last time I saw Jade," he began his story. "We were in Lancaster, Pennsylvania- you know, where the Amish live? We were in separate cars, the one I have now, and her pickup truck that she's owned for a long time. We were with our friend Sinjin, trying to go to the middle of nowhere. It made sense at the time; the middle of nowhere would presumably have minimal walkers. Anyway, we stopped to get gas, and a huge swarm of them came at us. And Jade was our leader. She told me and Sinjin to go down south while she made a diversion and led them another way. She wanted to help us, but they still came after us. They even broke through the side window and started chewing Sinjin's arm, and all I did was keep on driving..."

Tori watched him cry. She was stunned by his story. Here, she had assumed that this guy was getting by on pure dumb luck by avoiding the walkers. In reality, he had faced them and acted like a coward. He had even risked his own friend too. No wonder he lied. She would be ashamed too if she sacrificed others for her own safety. But she understood where he was coming from. While he sobbed into his hands, she rested hers on his knees until he looked into her eyes.

"It's all in the past," she coaxed. "We all made mistakes that we regret."

"Really Little Miss Julliard Material?" André sniffled. "What doesn't make you a saint?"

Tori took a deep breath. Here came the one thing she hated admitting to; her monstrous behavior toward her sister.

"Trina and I used to be close," she said. "I went to a normal high school and she went to a performing arts school. You could only get in if you auditioned, which she had. When we both came home from school, we would hang out together. We'd go to the mall or the movies or relax on the beach. But then when I auditioned my sophomore and her junior year, I became this... snobby, prissy, bratty girl. I ditched my old friends for new ones. We would tell Trina that she was untalented, worthless, and basically that she was nothing compared to us. We even asked her how she was even good enough to be considered allowed into our school. And she... I don't know how she even put up with us sometimes. I was so awful to her...

"And now here she is, in every newspaper article that even exists anymore, being known as one of the most important people alive. She killed more walkers than anyone can count and is the one person everyone wants to be with. Now if you asked people who they'd rather be stuck with, they would choose her over me. I feel like such a bitch for how I treated my sister. Now it's total karma. She's the popular one, and no one wants me anymore. I'm a nobody."

Tori took a deep breath and sighed. She knew it was true. She hated the way she treated her sister. Hell, if it wasn't for Trina, she would have been in public school for the rest of her high school career. She acted as if her sister was a rabid stray animal, and Trina didn't let any pain that she had felt. André picked his head up and smiled weakly.

"If it makes you feel better," he said, "I'm glad that I'm with you."

"Thanks," Tori said with a laugh. She wiped away stray tears forming. "It does make me feel a little better. Now, let's go kill some walkers and get the hell out of here."

"Okay, but Tori?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm still scared."


	12. Chapter 12

Just as Robbie had warned him, Freddie was awoken by Sam. She was screaming and flailing her arms violently. Freddie covered her mouth with one hand and used his other to hold down her arms. He could feel the moisture from her tears on his hand. He was grateful that it was morning when this happened so that the others wouldn't freak out on her.

"Shh," he whispered. "It's okay, Nashie... Sam."

Sam woke up and Freddie found himself underneath of the tiny blonde, her hands wrapped tightly around his neck, rage in her blue eyes.

"What the hell were you doing to me?" she snapped. "Are you trying to suffocate me in my sleep?"

"Your cousin warned me that you would have nightmares," Freddie winced. Sam continued choking him for a few more moments before letting him go. Freddie gasped for air and Sam still straddled him.

"I should've known he'd do this," she sighed. "This hasn't happened in weeks. At least, not since you've shown up to join the two of us."

She smiled at the memory of the first time they met. While Robbie stood guard at the door, she searched through a convenient store for food and hygienic products. Another boy had already been inside, and they fought for the very last Fat Cake left on the shelf. Naturally, Sam won the fight- no one got between her and food- but felt a small amount of pity for the boy, who said he was all alone in the outskirts of Los Angeles. Robbie was the one who made Sam cooperate and allowed Freddie to come with them. Freddie didn't know who they were at all, but he knew that the other two were closer than most other survivors would be. He had mistakenly thought they were a couple, not family. He felt like an idiot for that too.

"He also told me that it's about your sister," Freddie added.

"Son of a bitch," Sam muttered.

"And I know what it's like to lose family," Freddie continued. "I only had my mother when this all started. She was a paranoid nurse who sheltered me from the world before all of this started. And then she became worse. She refused to let me go outside. Heck, _she_ barely went outside. She showed me all of the stuff she knew about helping the sick and injured. She made me read books like _World War Z_. It didn't take long before they came to our house. She made me drive the Hummer out of the garage door with all of the things she thought I would need- which was a lot, trust me- when she knew that we were doomed. And I... I just drove. I knew that once I had left that I would never see her again. Then, a month after I left, there you are, killing me over a Fat Cake."

Sam actually giggled at that, to Freddie's surprise.

"Mel and I were trying to get to Canada because of the Fat Cake factory there," she admitted. Freddie was laughing too.

The laughter made them both feel so much better.

* * *

Trina and Spencer sat on the fire escape as the sun beamed in their eyes at high noon. Spencer had found a pack of cigarettes and some matches in their bedroom, so the two adults smoked. They needed the nicotine at the moment to help relax. Last night, both of their bodies ached for each other. However, with three others living under the same roof, they had to keep their hands to themselves and just dream about what could have possibly something (which ended up being an awkward encounter in the morning for Spencer when he woke up).

"Why did we let them stay again?" Spencer asked as he took a long drag.

"Because they would be able to help us if any walkers somehow find us," Trina answered as she exhaled the smelly smoke. She watched it float and fade into the air with fascination.

"Right." He sighed, knowing that what he was about to say was going to start a fight between them.

"Maybe," he said, "we should tell the others about our relationship."

"And risk losing their trust?" Trina replied.

"What do you mean?"

"They'll assume that because we're a couple that we're going to ditch them whenever we get into a sticky situation."

Trina didn't want to admit that she felt pain from when Tori would ditch her in the same fashion. That was the other half of the reason why she didn't like other couples or groups much. She feared that they would end up leaving her for dead, or in her case, the police and angry owners of various establishments.

"Damn," Spencer said. "I wish that it would be easier for us."

"There's a loft below us," Trina suggested. "We could move in there and leave the three of them up here? I'm pretty sure that Los Angeles wouldn't mind having a bed instead of a couch held together by duct tape."

"Uh huh..."

Spencer didn't know how to finish his sentence when a pickup truck drove slowly down the street. It came to a halt in front of the building. Two people, a boy and a girl around the others' ages, exitted it and looked up. The boy had olive skin and fluffy dark hair. His jeans and yellow plaid flannel shirt was torn. The girl had tan skin and frizzy brown curls. She wore a white tank top and stonewashed jeans that had splotches of blood on them. Spencer and Trina shared another look.

_Great_, they were both thinking, _just what we need. More people._

Before anyone said anything, Spencer noticed the bag that the girl was clutching. He squinted at it, trying to remember whose it was.

"Where'd you get that bag from?" he called down to them. The two kids exchanged a quick look of sadness.

"I'm guessing that you're Carly's brother... San Diego?" the girl asked.

"Who are you and how the hell did you get my little sister's bag?" Spencer was enraged now. Trina put a hand on his shoulder and he calmed down a bit.

"That's what we want to talk about," the boy answered as the girl bit her lip. Spencer saw the tear rolling down her cheek.

"No..." he whispered.

"Sp- Diego?" Trina asked.

"She's dead." Spencer gripped onto the rail and sniffled. "My baby sister is dead."


	13. Chapter 13

_**(A/N: I know that this won't make up for the loss of Carly and Jade, but I think bringing in a new and unknown [to the characters] face might make you guys get a bit excited...)**_

* * *

André stared at his feet as they trudged down a bare highway with blood and guts coating the breaking pavement. Right now, he had no idea where he was in Arizona. All he knew was that he and Tori were stuck walking with their clothes on their backs and weapons in hand. Why? André wasn't quick enough to start the car and one of the walkers had crawled underneath of the car and put a small hole in the gas tank. Neither of them caught on until they made it to the outskirts of Phoenix and the car broke down. They had to gather their things quickly before they were caught, and five hours later, here they were.

"I'm sorry," he said for the umpteenth time.

"It's not your fault," Tori replied again. "You didn't know what to do. If I were in your shoes, I would have probably peed myself."

"At least you would've probably started the truck and drove off," André groaned. "We would've been in California by now. We'll be lucky to reach the border by sunset."

"Aren't you the optimistic one."

"Well, why don't you change the subject and see where that takes us!"

Silence fell upon them for a while. Then they heard the familiar sounds. Not of a walker, but of a car. André and Tori stopped and turned in circles for what seemed like ages until they saw it. A van. A white van with blood on the front. And a kid driving it. André and Tori stuck out their thumbs immediately. They stared at the driver as he approached them slowly. He couldn't be more than sixteen. He had on a plaid shirt and a sly grin. The kid pulled over by André and Tori when he noticed that they were actually alive.

He rolled down the window slowly and raised an eyebrow.

"We need a ride to San Diego," Tori said uneasily. "Our truck broke down in Phoenix."

"Would you mind?" André asked.

The kid shook his head and motioned for them to get in the car. They sat in the backseat and drove off.

"What's your names?" he asked them.

"Hollywood and Brooklyn," Tori answered for them.

"No, Cheekbones, I meant your real names," the kid said. Tori frowned and covered her cheekbones with her hands, unsure of whether or not she was being insulted by the teenager.

"Tori and André," she said.

"And what's your name, man?" André asked.

The kid grinned. "_Gibb-ay_."

* * *

Cat smiled as the brunette girl offered her a beer. Usually, she would decline it. But she knew that she would need a little buzz to get through the next few minutes. She pulled back the tab and drank half of the can within seconds. Beck's eyebrows went up in amusement as he declined the brew. They looked around the room. The other girl, a blonde with a bitter look on her face, was drinking a beer as well. She was sitting between the other two boys in the loft. One had a curly afro and thick glasses. The other had what Cat liked to call "vampire hair" because it swooped upward in the front. They didn't know their names except for Spencer, who was clutching onto Carly's bag with a blank expression.

"Where did you find her?" he asked quietly.

"Montana," Beck explained, saving Cat from having to retell the angst-y story. "We found her in Montana. She said she had been alone for a long time."

"Then what?"

"She wanted to go back home, back to Seattle. That's what we called her too."

"There was a walker," Cat spoke up. She put down the can and hugged her knees to her chest. "In Seattle, there was a walker inside this weird place with funky colors everywhere... and she got scared... she called him T-Bo... we had to shoot him before he got her... and then she shot someone who was alive. I remember this guy with a huge wart on his face..."

"Lewbert," Spencer spat. He made a face. "That guy always creeped us out. He would sit in the lobby of our apartment building scratching that wart of his with a fork or trimming the hairs off of it."

The others looked like they were going to vomit.

"We were in Salem, staying at this motel, because we thought it was safe," Beck continued. "And we... the other girl with us and me, we saw a horde of them coming toward us. The must've been a dozen. We all made it to the truck and drove away, and we thought we were all safe, but Seattle scraped her knee. She didn't know what one of them had its blood splattered all over her wound. And we didn't find out until we were near California."

The other four listened intensely. The story had made Spencer, Cat, and Beck all start tearing up. Spencer hugged his sister's bag to his chest and tried not to make a huge scene. Cat knew that Beck was giving her a look that meant _don't blame yourself for any of this_ or _it could have been any of us, not just her._

"By the time any of us figured out that she was infected, she had accidentally spread it to the other girl with us," Beck said. "And we had no choice. Neither of them wanted to become one of them, so we had to make them... brain-dead." He closed his eyes and tried to erase the images of himself shooting Jade in the head from his mind. They were haunting him.

"I didn't want to believe it when I saw you guys," Spencer said weakly. "Carly was always so strong. She had so many friends. I figured one of them would be able to watch out for her and keep her safe. I had no idea."

"It's not your fault," the brunette coaxed. "I keep on worrying that Tori is out there fighting for her life too." She smiled at Cat and Beck. "You guys are more than welcome to stay here. We were actually gonna scope out any other safe places in the building later."

"Thank you," Beck said smiling. "We'd love to, right Boca Raton?"

Cat nodded while guzzling down the rest of her beer.


	14. Chapter 14

Gibby watched the two stragglers he had picked up off of the side of the road. They weren't anyone he had recognized; the only few people he knew were still alive were somewhere on the West Coast. These two were obviously from the East Coast. Tori had been humming songs to herself and André would join in once in a while. They looked through his CD collection and weren't too thrilled to see that all he had were One Direction and Cuttlefish discs. He tried not to take any offense by it; not everyone would understand the beauty of five male singers or of pure rock. He just accepted the silence as he continued driving.

The past three months were hell for him. He had tried to make it to Maine with his best friend. Neither of them were able to make it because of the constant feuds that came up. At first, it was over little things, such as who drove and who was and wasn't an infected person turning into a walker. Later, the duo fought over even more petty topics, such as who had killed more than the other. It wasn't until Gibby was offended about a joke about Harry Styles that he kicked his friend out of the car in the middle of Montana and drove down south. He was hoping that eventually he would be able to drive from North America into South America until he drove to Antarctica.

He wasn't the most clever person; he thought Antarctica was the country and Brazil was the continent.

The two extra passengers helped him finally have someone to talk to about anything. But what? New singers? There weren't any famous people left in the world, although he was sure that his favorite singers were, or at least Bill Murray. New trends? The latest trend was being the living dead, and that was something that Gibby didn't find "cool". Shoes? Only his best friend would understand talking about shoes. Or bras. Or lip gloss.

He had a complicated lifestyle.

Finally, he figured out what to say.

"What'd you guys do?" he asked. "You know, before all of this happened and stuff."

"I was going to apply to Julliard," Tori said with a weak smile. "I guess I don't need to worry about that anymore, you know?"

"My best friend and I were performing in local theater groups," André said.

"Didn't you say you were from Brooklyn?" Gibby asked.

"Yes."

"Ha. Lame." Gibby laughed a bit. He looked over to see Tori and André looking slightly offended. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing," André muttered.

"What did you do before the apocalypse?" Tori asked.

"I used to co-host a web show with my best friend," Gibby answered. "We were pretty popular too."

"Oh my gosh!" Tori gushed. "I knew you looked familiar! You're from _iCarly!_ You're Gibby!"

"_Gibb-ay_," he said his famous line. Anyone who knew him heard him say his name like that at least once a day. It was how he entered rooms, started shows, and any time he felt it was appropriate (which, in his case, wasn't always the best times).

"You're from _iCarly_?" André asked, impressed. "That's cool. What happened to the other two... uh... Carly and Spencer?"

"That's who I'm looking for," Gibby said. "Well, Spencer, anyway. I ditched Carly back in Montana."

The other two gasped. "You ditched her in Montana, and you're in Arizona now?" Tori cried.

"She didn't take back what she said about Harry Styles' hair, so I told her to get out of the car," Gibby explained, as if that made up for what he had just said. He shook his head and laughed. "Women, right?"

Tori and André let out two nervous laughs before quickly resorting to staring out the window in silence.

* * *

Robbie muttered to himself that he was idiotic over and over again as he slowly walked down the stairs. He had gotten the short straw; he was being forced to find a new place. There was already Sam and Freddie sharing one room and Trina and Spencer in the other. Beck and Cat were given the privilege of taking the couch he had grown accustomed to. Now he was at the third level apartment, gripping a gun in one hand and ready to open the door with the other. In one swift move, he ran to the door as fast as he could and jumped against it on his left side to break it open. The door didn't budge and the boy bounced off and hit the floor. He rolled onto his back and groaned in pain.

"Oh my gosh!" a high-pitched voice squeaked. Seconds later, Cat was crouched over him. "Are you okay?" she asked.

He assumed that her strangely higher pitch was a result from the concussion he just received. He nodded yes and let her help him to his feet.

"I saw people do it in movies," he confessed. "I thought it'd work here..."

Cat giggled. "You're silly!" She had let her guard down and forgot that she was trying to maintain a tough-guy image for the others. She opened the door to the apartment, which was empty.

"At least now I have a place to crash," Robbie said.

"What about upstairs?" Cat asked.

"You and Beck took my spot."

He wondered if she was always a little dimwitted.

"That's so mean," she accused.

"Whoa!" Robbie cried. "It's nothing. It's not like that was my choice. One of us was going to search this place anyway. I guess I was the chosen one."

"So you're gonna live all by yourself?" Cat asked with her bottom lip jutted out.

Robbie had the strong desire to kiss those pouty lips. But he remained cool about it... at least as cool as he could manage.

"Yeah," he said.

_Smooth move, Shapiro_, he thought.

"What if I lived with you too?" Cat suggested.

Robbie blinked a few times. Nope, he wasn't dreaming. The beautiful girl standing in front of him was actually suggesting staying in the same place as him instead of slapping him with the back of her hand or his guitar.

"R-really?" he asked, his voice cracking.

Cat giggled again.

Robbie was falling in love with that giggle.

"Why not?" she asked. "Now you won't be so lonely!" She hopped up and down a bit in delight before running upstairs to grab her things.

Robbie waited until she was out of view before letting out a happy yelp and dancing around the apartment.


	15. Chapter 15

_**(A/N: This may be the only time I try this, but I'm going to have a POV from each character because of the date that this chapter is set on [it's nighttime and still the same day from the past few chapters].)**_

* * *

_Cat_

Beck told me that he doesn't trust me with this guy, Los Angeles. I rolled my eyes and reminded him that he wasn't my guardian, even though he's actually one year older than me. In fact, I was one of the youngest people here. It's one of the many strange talents I have. I can guess people's exact clothing sizes. I can put my toes in my mouth. I can also estimate someone's age and be off by a year at the most. The oldest person here is most definitely San Diego. No doubt in my mind he was twenty-nine or thirty. Next is Beverly Hills, who had to be near her mid-twenties and no younger than twenty-three. Los Angeles is around twenty-two. Glendale and Nashville are twenty-one. Beck is twenty-one too. I'm twenty. Most people can't guess that about me, but since my maturity level has sky-rocketed since the walkers began to roam the earth, I can appear to be older than anyone can guess.

Anyway, two hours after I told Beck that I'm moving in with Los Angeles, he still hasn't softened up about the subject.

"You should think this through," he's saying to me as if he can control me. "You don't even know the guy."

"And not too long ago, I picked up a girl in an amusement park in Virginia, a boy in a deserted Wal-Mart in Iowa, and a girl in the middle of Montana," I retort. I throw my belongings back into my bag carelessly. I have to keep them out of Beck's range so he won't throw them around to prevent me from leaving. He's grown too protective without Jade to keep him preoccupied.

"This is different," Beck insists.

"How is this any different?"

"Because... because it just is!"

"I'm not Jade! You can't coddle me like this!"

I zip my bag shut and storm out of the apartment. The others watch me with blank expressions. I can care less right now. I'm not the same naïve little Caterina Valentine that I was a few months ago. I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl now.

And this anger turns into something... different.

I knock on the door to the apartment I now share with Robbie.

Before he opens it, I think of my last name and what day it is today.

* * *

_Freddie_

Five year ago today, my girlfriend Wendy and I went on a date. It was wonderful. A romantic dinner in a fancy, dimly lit restaurant. To the drive-in movie theater in the outskirts of town. It was so perfect. Halfway through the movie, we became bored and went to the backseat of my car. It began with kissing, and then our shirts were in the front seat. My pants and her skirt followed. I was about to take off the final layers of clothing between us when she said the words:

"I'm pregnant."

I freaked out. I mean, who wouldn't? I was only sixteen at this time. There was no way I could handle fatherhood. I had been in high school. I never got the chance to graduate yet. It was junior year and I was going to be a dad? I meant to ask her what came next when she said something even scarier:

"Don't worry; it's not yours anyway."

Not only was that far from assurance, but I was stunned. I couldn't believe that she had cheated on me. As soon as she said that, I put my clothes on. She did the same and stared at the back of the front seats. We watched the rest of whatever movie it was in silence. I drove her home and she, like always, babbled. It was the one thing I always disliked about her; she talked when no one wanted to hear her talk.

"It's just Shane. I mean, I already talked it over with him. He said that if you want, we can just tell everyone that it's yours and not his. If not, then he'll say that it's his. He's even willing to pay Child Support. I'm only, like, five weeks along, so abortion is an option, but I'd rather not have one, okay? And I haven't figured out whether or not I'm gonna stay in school..."

Fast forward five years. I'm sitting in a room with what looks like the stereotypical blonde bimbo. She's tiny and gorgeous. But she's not anorexic (I learned that when she tried to kill me over a Fat Cake) and she's not a bimbo. She's got a plan figured out in her head already. She can play all of the right cards without any hesitation. And she's sauntering into the room with nothing but a see-through slip and her matching polka dot bra and panties. I can feel my mouth water. This is treacherous.

"What are you staring at?" she asks.

"Nothing!" I blurt out. Oh, crap, in about a minute, that "nothing" is going to be very visible.

"Are you okay?" she kneels on the edge of the bed. _Damn it, damn it, think pure thoughts!_

Only one thing came to mind.

"I'm gonna go take a shower!"

I run out of the room as fast as I can.

So much for today being the most romantic day of the year.

* * *

_Robbie_

I've always had the worst luck on today. Ironically, most of the world would usually be getting lucky. Now that there are billions of them dead, I'm no longer the only guy sitting alone with a box of tissues and bottle of lotion.

But this new apartment has neither of those things.

And so far, no Boca Raton. I heard her fighting with the guy she came here with for a while now. I can hear everything upstairs. They were talking about me a lot and the others they had been with. I'm almost positive right now that they are a couple and that the guy, Des Moines, thinks I'm a creepy rapist or something. It's not like I even have a chance with Boca Raton. She's model gorgeous. She could be Miss February- no, she's every month of the year. Megan Fox can't even hold a candle to her. Unfortunately, the same goes for Des Moines. There's no way that they're not together if they've been stuck with each other for so long.

Above me, I hear bedsprings bounce. I can't tell what room it is. Whoever they are, whoever is doing the nasty, are reminding me that I am all alone.

There's a knock on the door. I open it to see Cat. She throws her bag on the floor and shoves me back. I try not to fall over as she slams the door shut.

"Say my name," she orders. "Say it."

"Uh, Boca Raton?" I squeak.

She shakes her head. "Cat," she says. "Say Cat."

"Cat."

"Now say it in a moan."

I obey her. She makes me do this a few more times. Then she makes me say it while leading me backwards to the bed. She pushes me on my back and straddles me while she kisses.

Now I'll remember this holiday as my very first kiss.

Not bad for only being twenty-two.

* * *

_Beck_

On this day last year, I met Alyssa Vaughn. We were on the set of a movie and we were about to shoot in an hour. She had accidentally walked into my dressing room and found me in boxers. She blushed, apologized, and walked off.

I was on set later when I learned that my roles had changed. It meant more scenes. More wage. My name would be mentioned in the cast list. And then I read my script for my new role. Most of them involved Alyssa. In fact, in this movie, there were some very... intimate scenes between us.

Later she came into my new dressing room.

"I think we need to practice our scenes tonight," she said with a seductive tone.

We had practiced every night for many months. It all ended when I had to go back home to Canada. It was definitely over when I found how walkers invaded the movie set she was at.

Today is the anniversary of one of the beginning of some of the best days of my life- not including Jade.

* * *

_André_

For many years, I would spend this day with Jade on stage performing. We would sing many songs while the audiences cheered for us. It was amazing to go through such things. I remember one time, I ended up having a panic attack backstage. It was horrible. Jade rushed over to me and tried to coax me.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "It's like you've never done this before!"

"I-I don't know!" I cried. "It's just... it's just..."

"What?"

I had to lie. "I saw my ex-girlfriend with her new boyfriend."

"Oh..." Jade stared at the ground. This was the one thing she wasn't very good with. She knew that my ex dumped me. That never happened to her; she dumped every boy she'd been with. The boy who she later dated from another show she did wailed for days about it while Jade celebrated with a bottle of bourbon.

"I can't do this," I told myself. "I can't. I can't. I can't."

"Yes. You. Can."

She ended up having to drag me onstage for our duet. We sang "Picture" and the audience loved it. Jade became giddy offstage and kissed me for a short second.

This is the anniversary that I ever felt true love, even though I ended up getting shot down.

* * *

_Trina_

I hate today. I caught my then-boyfriend with Tori. It wasn't the first time, but it was the most painful time. I don't want to extrapolate on the topic either.

Instead, I had spent the following days each year getting drunk with anyone and everyone who I now know only went because I said that I'd pay. And in my drunken stupor and vengance, Tori would be the forced designated driver. She would get hit on by many wasted older men who thought that if they mentioned they were loaded that they could get any girl's hand down their pants. Tori was always freaked out by them. I would laugh with the others sitting next to me. Now that I think about it, it was cruel.

Now I sit on the kitchen table with a beer bottle in hand.

The girl, Nashville, walks out of the bedroom. Looking by the way that she's dressed, she looks like the girls who gets kidnapped by a stalker or serial killer. She gets herself a beer hops up on the table next to me.

"Gosh, I hate holidays," she groans while opening the bottle.

"It can get annoying at times," I agree.

"It doesn't help that they've been fighting all day." She points at the two newcomers. The girl throws her things in a bag. She has to beat the guys to everything because he's constantly chucking each one across the room.

"Tell me about it," I say.

"Cheers," Nashville says. She clinks the necks of the bottles together while adding, "To holidays sucking."

I chuckle. "To holidays sucking."

* * *

_Gibby_

"Happy Lovers' Day!" Carly and I shout at the camera. Spencer holds it, laughing.

"I'm Carly!" my best friend introduces herself.

"_Gibb-ay_!" My usual line.

"And this is _iCarly_!"

"The only show that has free bacon," I say.

"And protects us from zombies," Carly adds.

We dance around the studio while a deep voice that repeats the same two words, "_Random Dancing!_" Lights flash and we go nuts.

Later, we invite schoolmates to play _Hey, What Am I Sitting On?_ The items we used included cotton balls, Fat Cakes, a screw, and hair. Only one person- Patrice from downstairs- was able to guess what she was sitting on. It was me, and I had enjoyed every second of it.

We helped send messages to loved ones, let people ask out those they loved via live chat, and one person proposed to their girlfriend. The best part of that was that his fiancée ended up being backstage and ran out and kissed him and cried, "Yes!" over and over again.

Now I'm in a motel room with two strangers and no Carly.

It's the anniversary of the last time I had seen true love.

* * *

_Tori_

His name was Ryder Daniels, and he was gorgeous.

And he also belonged to Trina.

It was, what I call, International Prove Your Love Day. Trina had class that day. She was supposed to return home at 5:00 to prepare for her date at 7:00.

The doorbell rang. 4:15.

I ran downstairs in a bathrobe with my hair soaked from the bath I had just taken. 4:16.

I let Ryder in. I got him some pink lemonade. We argued over why it was pink lemonade when there wasn't such thing as pink lemons. 4:23.

He said he had to use the bathroom. I showed him where and I went into my room to get dressed. 4:30.

I got a call from my friend who forgot the lyrics to a song. I sang her the entire song and she thanked me a dozen times before hanging up. 4:35.

Ryder knocked on the door. He said that he heard me singing and that he thought it was better. He compared me to Christina Aguilera. I blushed. 4:37.

He said that he sang too. And so he did for me. It was like he was an angel. 4:42.

We looked up instrumentals on SplashFace and sang along to three of them. 4:54.

He said that he thought I was amazing. I agreed. He said that he wanted me. I agreed. He asked if it was okay if he could kiss me. I said, "Go ahead." 4:56.

My bathrobe is untied and it falls to the floor. His clothes follow pursuit and we are on the bed. 4:58.

The doorbell rings. Three times. Neither of us hear it over the sounds of us panting each other's names. Nor do we hear the front door open and the footsteps ascending the staircase leading to my bedroom. 5:01.

The door opens. Ryder and I let out our final screams. Once we're done and we regain our focus, Trina's scream become louder than ours. 5:02.

That was the first time I had realized how much I have hurt my sister.

And now I may never see her again.

* * *

_Sam_

I can hear Melanie tell me that I'm going to be an alcoholic. Since I've been here, I've been drinking a lot of beer and vodka and anything that's a liquor. Whoever lived on this block before us had bought out every liquor store in the country. Not like I'm complaining. It feels good to have this constant buzz. It makes me forget about everything that has happened.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. My hair is starting to curl as it dries. My eyes look like I'm a corpse. Hell, I _feel_ like a corpse. But I look like a whore. Mom would get a kick out of this.

This was the one day each year when Mom didn't have some random sketchy guy over. Instead, she had a large bottle of Absolut and clutched the phone as she called one of five guys that I had learned were the five she had slept with before she was pregnant with Mel and me. She begged them for Child Support. She pleaded that they come to us. Tried to get them to want to talk to us. Instead, she would usually get reminded of a restraining order or cussed out by their current girlfriends or wives.

If anything, I don't want to sit here and remember this lousy day about my mommy's desperation.

I walk around the apartment, bored out of my mind, after I'm done jumping up and down on the bed. Des Moines is on the fire escape, smoking a cigarette. Beverly Hills still has drinking. And Freddie is in the bathroom, taking a shower... What is that? I hear something else. It doesn't sound like something I'd want to hear. It's... moaning?

I hear it loud and clear over running water. Freddie is moaning. And it's the same word over and over.

"_Sam... Ooh, Sam..._"

I gasp and jump back. Beverly gives me a weird look.

"What the hell was that?" she asks.

I gulp. "Like I said," I say, "I hate holidays."

I run into my room quickly and try to go to sleep.

I really do hate holidays.

* * *

_Spencer_

Trina walks into the room and shuts the door behind her with a loud, obnoxious giggle. She's obviously drunk. I make a face at that. I'm okay when it comes to cigarettes or even pot. But I'm not a fan of brew. Trina is.

"Do you know what happened to me a while back?" I make out of the slur spewing out of her lips.

"No, what?" I reply.

"I caught-" _hic!_ "-my sister in bed with-" _hic!_ "-my boyfriend."

"Oh."

How romantic for today.

She laughs. "And now, he's probably dead! Maybe even twice!"

"Trina, you need to quiet down. You're getting a little crazy."

Now she's starting to cry. "I know; I'm such a mess!"

I've never seen her this bipolar. She went from excited and drunk to depressed and... still drunk. I pull her in for a hug and hush her.

"I know baby, I know," I whisper in her ear. "It's been hard for all of us."

For me, my past years have been spent with my best friend's grandmother while Carly would be out with guys, except for the one year when the filmer, Shawn from the school's A/V club, had plans. I got to film their web show, and it was the best day that I had for a while.

"Do me," Trina whispers huskily. "Just do me baby."

I don't argue. I give her what she wants.

And I waited until afterwards to silently mourn my baby sister on her favorite day of the year- Valentine's Day.


	16. Chapter 16

_**(A/N: Three things for this chapter.**_

_**One - I changed my name again from SaintWhatsername to DanceFilmMusicAnarchyRent.**_

_**Two - I reread the previous chapter and decided that I like having different characters narrating in first-person, so I'm going to have a three or four characters do that each chapter for most of the story, if not all. **_

_**Three - they sort of all meet up again, but not in the nicest conditions.)**_

* * *

_Robbie_

Last night, not only did I have my first kiss, but I lost my virginity, to Cat. Beautiful, sexy, wild Cat. She made every second pleasurable. She grabbed whatever inch of pale skin she saw and pressed her lips all across my body. When I admitted that I was clueless in this field of expertise, she smiled and instructed me along the way. From the sounds she was making, I guess that I made the right moves. I hope no one above us heard.

I wake up to see that she is still lying in the nude. Rays of sun bring attention to her bare back. I kiss the skin softly. She giggles and wakes up.

"Good morning, Robbie," she says in a hushed tone.

"After last night, I would say I'm having a good morning," I tell her. That was one of the corniest jokes of all time, but by the way she giggles, I guess that I said that right thing, because she roars with laughter.

"Wanna go for round two later tonight?" she asks.

"Hell yes," I answer instantly. She smiles and kisses me.

I feel like I know everything bout sex and girls now. I slip my tongue past our lips and into her mouth. She lets out a moan and grips my shoulders. My hands go to her waist and put her on her back. Our hands travel across bare bodies in lust.

I'm the first to pull away.

"I need to use the bathroom," I say lamely.

"I'm not gonna stop you," she replies with another kiss.

I stand up and grab my clothes. If someone else comes downstairs, I'd rather not get caught wearing nothing. Cat wraps the bedsheet around her naked form and I pick up her clothes from the floor. She thanks me as I hand them to her. I give her one last passionate kiss and rush off to relieve myself.

* * *

_Sam_

For once, I am the first person awake. The sun has barely risen in the pale blue sky. There aren't any birds alive to chirp outside, nor are there bees buzzing outside the cracked window panes. However, I have to unwrap Freddie's arms from my waist gently. I don't know how or when that happened, but it kind of freaked me out.

Did I find him cute? Yes, he was pretty damn attractive. And last night definitely answered my question about if he felt the same about me when I heard him moaning my name during his long shower. I overheard Des Moines asking Beverly Hills why I randomly freaked out. She didn't know. Good thing too, because I'd rather her not know. One of the golden rules of surviving out here is to afford having a relationship and growing attached to someone. When it comes down to life-or-death here, not wanting to let someone go causes extra blood on someone else's hands, or, worse, waking up to find your lover eating your neck as if they were a vampire. Thank god there's no such thing as a vampire apocalypse.

For some reason, this morning feels much more different from any other morning within the past week. It makes me do things out of the ordinary. Such as take my bookbag and replace the clothes in there with newer ones that I found in the dresser that happen to fit me. And a new pair of running shoes that slide on with ease. Then a couple of bottles of vodka. A few guns follow in pursuit. I put my ammo in the side pockets. My machete lies on the ground close to my bag as I scope out the apartment. I can sense some sort of danger growing near.

It seems like I wasn't the only curious one. I see Des packing his bag too. He's putting in fresh clothes he most likely retrieved from one of the full dressers in a bedroom. He also holds an ax and is putting away a revolver. I raise an eyebrow at him.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I ask him.

He nods. "I've been on the road for months, and I always woke up about an hour before something like this happened."

"Same."

"Should we go and wake up the others?"

"I'm thinking about letting them have a few more minutes of beauty sleep while they can. I'll find another bag to put food in."

"Good thinking."

I turn toward the kitchen area to see that Beverly has raced out of her room and already beat me there. She finds every non-perishable food and tosses it in a bag. After a minute of searching through cabinets she turns and sees the two of us watching her.

"I suggest that we wake up San Diego and Glendale while we have the chance," she says. "I wouldn't want to give _them_ any time advantage on us. I'd rather let them starve back to death."

With that, she runs back to her room.

"I'll keep watch," Des offers. When he pulls out a lighter and cigarette from his shirt pocket, I understand why he wants to keep watch.

I go back to my room and crawl onto the bed. The shifting on the mattress from my weight wakes up Freddie before I get the chance to. He turns over quickly and sees the panicky look on my face.

"They're coming, aren't they?" he asks without hesitation. I nod. He shoots out of bed in nothing but a pair of striped boxers. He throws on a pair of jeans and a white shirt. He goes through the dressers for other clothes, reading tags and finding the right size. He shoves what he can in his bag and grabs his baseball bat. I throw my bag over my shoulders and pick up my machete. We meet everyone else in the living area.

"How many vehicles do you guys have?" Beverly demands.

"One pickup," Des says.

"Same and a motorcycle," I say.

"We arrived on foot," San Diego admits. "But this is good. I'll go with Glendale in his truck. Beverly and Des can pair up. I assume that since you were the one who drove the bike here that you'll ride it?"

"Of course," I reply.

"Then we need to go now," Beverly says. "The sooner the better."

We nod in agreement. Glendale holds up his set of keys. Des does as well. We rush down the stairs so fast that it becomes a blur. By the time we make it outside, we think we have enough time.

But that's when we see the clusters of walkers coming from both directions.

We all wield our weapons and dash for each designated vehicle.

* * *

_Cat_

I finish getting dressed as I hear someone pounding on the door. I'm about to answer it when I hear a diseased moan travel through the wood. Instinct kicks in and I grab my knapsack. I throw it over my shoulders and grab my two guns and climb out the window. I shut it just in time for three walkers to break down the door. I have no choice but to run down. I look at the street to see the others shooting and slicing and bashing and massacring at least thirty other walkers. By the time I reach the second level of the fire escape, I realize that I have no way out. Going through the building is already ruled out since they beat me inside. A few walkers gathered around at the base of the ladder leading to the concrete. My first decision is to shoot a few of them, but it doesn't help much when more gather around.

I look up when I hear a truck roar to life. Glendale is inside with San Diego standing on the bedding in the back. He uses a sword to kill all of the ones that try to get him. Glendale rolls down the window next to him and leans out to help kill the ones trying to eat him alive. Soon, he gives in and shouts to drive northwest before speeding off, running over the walkers who idiotically stood in his path.

This gives Nashville the small chance to jump on her motorcycle and go after them, using her machete to mutilate all of the walkers thirsting for her blood.

I climb a level higher when I take notice of the walkers finally being able to climb the ladder at their own slow pace. I go to the next level up and see that Beverly Hills gets in my truck and starts it. Beck climbs in the back. He sees me in the midst of swinging his ax around like a madman.

"Dammit, jump!" he shouts at me.

I don't hesitate to listen to him. I leap and land beside him in the back of the truck without any permanent injury. I help him kill nearby walkers as Beverly starts following the others.

That's when I hear the cries of someone being eaten alive.

"Robbie," I gasp.

Shit, I forgot him. And those three walkers are dining on live flesh of the man I'm falling in love with.

"What?" Beck asks.

"Robbie!" I screech. I attempt to jump out of the truck but I'm pinned down by Beck.

"Leave him!" he shouts.

"Robbie!"

"You can't go back!"

"Robbie! I'm coming Robbie!"

"_Cat!_"

Beck turns me to face him and delivers a backhand across my face.

"He's gone now, Cat," he says. "You have to let him go."

"Why are you acting like this?" I whimper as I start to cry.

"This is what I went through when I lost Jade," he says. "Now we have to stick together and live with the fact that we lost the ones that we love."

I break down and hug him tighter. He doesn't seem to mind as he starts to rock me back and forth. Beverly just speeds up as she follows the first truck and motorcycle away from the limping walkers chasing us.

* * *

_Tori_

"There," Gibby says. He points to a truck that zooms by. "We finally found other people. I see two there."

"Make that three," André notes when a girl on a motorcycle flies past.

"Double that," Gibby adds when a second truck is seen. I take a closer look at the car. Two people in the back and one driving.

But that's not just anyone driving.

_It's Trina_.

"We need to follow them," I order.

"That's the plan, sweetcheeks," Gibby tells me as he turns right.

"And hurry," André begs. "We have company."

He's right. There's a swarm following the gang of people who just went by. It seems like they already were trying to grab the six we just saw, including my sister.

"Just drive," I say. "We need to find out who these people really are."

_So I can finally reunite with Trina._


	17. Chapter 17

_Gibby_

We followed them for at least three hours. We stayed in California, but I'm clueless as to what city we're actually in. Tori has been staring at the truck in front of us the whole time. André just stared out of the window with a bored expression on his face. I tried talking with them, but I rarely got anything more than a grunt in response from either of them. Finally, after several hundred miles of driving, they all pulled over at an abandoned gas station. The girl on the bike is the first to approach us. She motions for me to roll down the window, which I do.

"Who the hell are you?" she asks right off the bat.

"I'm a friend," I assure her. "Trust me."

She nods. "_You_ can get out of the car. Leave the other two in here. And give me your keys."

"Okey-dokey, banana-choky." I give her the keys and she gives me a funny look in response.

"So you're gonna ditch us in here, man?" André asks. "Do you even know who they are?"

"No, but I'm gonna earn their trust first."

"What makes you think that you can?"

"Uh, _Gibby_."

I seriously don't know why people think that a Gibby can't do what normal people can do.

I get out of the car and let the blonde lead me to the rest of her group. They all look shell-shocked. The short brunette with frizzy hair has her arms wrapped tight around herself and was slightly rocking herself. The darker skinned man near her keeps a hand steady on her shoulder. The others - a short guy, a much taller man, and a girl who looks like Tori a bit - all look me over. They're a surprisingly large group compared to what I'm used to seeing. I find myself staring at the taller man.

"State your city name," the Tori look-alike orders.

"I'd rather tell you my real name," I say.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because knowing real identities leads to attachment, leading to one of us crying their eyes out while shooting a loved one between the eyes before or after they become a walker. Therefore, you may want to tell me your city name or else I won't hesitate to ditch you and your friends here," the blonde tells me. She had an attitude that lets me know she is basically the controller of this group of misguided individuals. It's so sad. I decide that for once, I'm going to overpower someone.

"No, I won't," I say. "I'm a person, not a city. We all are. I have two people with me who thought the same way as you guys. I made them tell me their names, and we bonded immediately. Knowing names isn't a crime. It lets us all know that we can trust each other. I've travelled across the country, lost people, gained new ones, and learned a few things. I learned not to stay distance from people just because you can. That's why when you were being chased by walkers, there was a large distance between you all. You're all separate, not together. So, I think you should all tell me your names, and then I'll tell you the names of my friends and myself, and then we'll all go from there. How about you go first, Blondie."

The blonde girl gives me a bewildered look. She balls her hands into fists, but rather than punch me, she says, "Sam."

"What are you doing?" Tori's copy cries.

"There's no point, Beverly Hills," Sam says. "He does have a point. Besides, we all probably know at least one other person's name in this group. I mean, Los Angeles was my cousin! We've known each other since the get go."

"Fine. I'm Trina."

That name rang a bell, but I ignored it.

"I'm Beck," the darker boy says. "And this is Cat." Cat, the terrified girl, waves without making much of a sound.

"Freddie," the short boy says.

That leaves the tall man. "Spencer," he says.

Spencer... as in _Spencer Shay_? The big brother of Carly Shay, my best friend in the whole wide world? The guy who made everything catch on fire was here - _alive_?! It's a miracle! I never expected to see Carly again, let alone Spencer! I want to jump and hug him and become friends just like old times... but then I remember Carly. Spencer knows for a fact that I was with Carly when the walkers rose, and he made us promise to always stick together just in case something happened. He said we needed someone to keep us sane, and since he was too far away at the time, he said it needed to be each other. Yet here I am, without Carly. One look at the blood and pus dripping from the blades in their hands and stains in their clothing, I'm really afraid to see what happens if he discovers the truth.

But how can he recognize me? This outbreak of the living dead has done wonders. I've slimmed down from the chunkier little boy I used to be into man with pecks and abs that'll surely make the girls swoon. My hair isn't short - at least the damage from the clump that ripped off when I had a sledding accident was surgically fixed - and now reaches my shoulders. I don't wear all plaid and polos with khakis, but dark jeans and random brand name shirts that I've found along the way. Unless Spencer finds my head (yes, I have a mold replica of my head, but it's really cool and looks just like me) there's no way he'll know who I am.

"My name is Orenthal," I lie. Well, it's not a total lie. My name is Orenthal, but no one refers to me by that unless I'm being sued. As long as Spencer doesn't discover the truth, everything will be peaches and carrots.

* * *

_Trina_

"Well, Orenthal, I'm going to assume that you're the leader of your group?" I ask.

"Yupperooni," is his weird response. This kid is kind of kooky. I can see it in his eyes.

"Not anymore. I'm the leader here. You'll do as I say, and if not, then you and your buddies can just go along your merry way."

"I don't think so."

Okay, who the hell does this kid think he is? He can't just come up in my group and tell me how to run things. Who is he, God?

"Excuse me?" I ask with a little laugh.

"You're not in control of us," Orenthal tells me with a grin.

"What makes you so sure of yourself?" Damn, was this little punk cocky.

"Because I have something with me that will make you want to keep me around."

"Oh, really? And what is that?"

"A girl who goes by the name Hollywood."

"Hollywood?" Sam gasps. I turn to her.

"What's so significant about that name?" I ask her.

"My sister," she says in a hushed tone. "Her city name is Hollywood."

"So is mine," I tell her.

Crap. For years, I've been looking forward to reuniting with Tori. It's Sam's words that make my heart sink. What if I've been getting my hopes up for nothing? It might be Sam's sister. I could've been searching what was left of the world for three months for absolutely nothing. Had I really wasted my life killing things for nothing?

"How about you two meet her first before we jump to any conclusions here," Orenthal says. "Guys! Come out now!"

The first to come out of the car is a dark-toned man. He has muscular arms and his cornrows tied back in a ponytail. His hardened expression makes him seem slightly intimidating, but I didn't think he was as much of a badass as he came off as. He just nods a hello and stands next to Orenthal.

"This is André," he tells us. "And this is Tori."

And out of the car comes my baby sister. Clad in a tank top and skinny jeans, her hair matted in wet sand and dust and mangled, with her skin covered in dirt and bruises and blood, stands my sister. Tori. Tori Vega. Victoria freakin' Vega, who I haven't seen in three months, stands before me.

And only for a second, I feel slight guilt, because I'm giddy about this being Tori, yet I know that Sam hoped it was her sister.

I can't help it; TORI'S STANDING RIGHT THERE!

"Tr-Trina?" she whispers. I see shock, then happiness, grow on her face. Dimples form and her cheekbones stand out more than usual. God, how I missed those cheekbones.

"Hey Tori," I say with a smile.

And in an instance, we're hugging and crying. Finally, the Vega sisters are reunited at last.

* * *

_Freddie_

Before we departed again, I asked Spencer to trade with Sam. When he asked why, I lied and said that it seemed like he really wanted to drive her bike. It turned out to be a lucky guess, because he jumped around like a little kid and whined about how much he missed his old motorcycle. So as of right now, he's leading us on the bike, while Trina follows with Tori, Beck, and Cat. The two newcomers, Orenthal and André, are driving behind them, and Sam and me bring up the rear in our own pickup. For the entire ride so far, she's kept her head leaning against the window and stares out into empty space full of despair. Once in a while, we pass a walker, but before any of us can react, Beck or Cat kills it without any hesitation. Thank goodness we have two killing machines in out little group.

"How could I have been so idiotic?" I hear Sam murmur to herself.

A part of me wants to reach over and pull her into a hug and tell her that it'll all be okay. But I know that there's a very small chance that she'll kill me if I do. So I keep my mouth shut and just listen to her words.

"I should've known it wasn't Mel," she continues. "I mean, she's obviously dead. Didn't Robbie already emphasize that enough for me? The only thing I have left to remind myself of her is the picture of her in my back pocket and the fact that if I look in the mirror it's basically the same thing as looking at her. I guess blondes really are stupid. At least Trina gets her happy ending. Hip-hip, hoorah, her sister gets to come back to her. Mel and I were only cities apart, but I guess you need to be at opposite side of the country in order to find the person you want."

"I used to think that too," I interrupt. My brain tells me to shut the hell up, but my mouth and voice decide otherwise. "I told myself that one day my mom would come back to me. It was pretty apparent she wasn't going to. She was a nurse and working at the hospital. She was probably eaten alive by her patients. I did see her again. She was a walker. It didn't end well; I'd chosen the last possible second to choose life over death and shoot her between the eyes... twice. It sort of gave me some closure so I could move on, and hopefully, one day, you'll get some closure."

Sam sighs and continues to stare out the window. I give her one last glance before watching the road ahead of me. If she's going to be silent, then I won't give her the time of day.

Then all of a sudden, her lips are pressed to mine.


	18. Chapter 18

_André_

Gibby's been acting really weird ever since we've met up with these new people. I don't know what it is or why, but it's like he wants to turn off the road and speed away. His fingers have been drumming against the steering wheel anxiously, and I think he's even breaking out into a sweat, even though it's seventy-something degrees outside. I narrow my eyes at him.

"What's up with you, man?" I ask him.

"What?" Gibby laughs. "What do you mean? No, I don't know who Spencer is!"

"I didn't mention any Spencer. Seriously, though, what's wrong with you? You've been acting weirder than you usually do."

"Nothing! How about we go to the Groovy Smoothie and forget about this conversation!"

"What's the Groovy Smoothie?" Now I'm _really_ confused. Gibby tugs at the collar of his shirt. His eyes keep on looking around quickly. He even breaks out into a sweat. What the heck is his problem?

"Listen, I know Spencer, okay?" he confesses.

"_No_," I reply sarcastically.

"It's true!" Gibby exclaims. I guess sarcasm isn't his forte. "Spencer and I go way back. I was his sister's best friend. And Carly... I ditched her in the middle of nowhere. By now she's probably dead! And over what, Harry Styles? He's gone too!" He punches the steering wheel, a tiny honk sounding when he does. I just sit, unsure of how to respond. I lean against the door and sigh.

"I used to love reading books and watching movies about zombies," I say. "Every time a new one came out, I was the first to read or see it. It fascinated me. The dead standing up and practically living again. I mean, I wasn't sure how, but they still breathe like a normal person. They kind of function like one too. I wonder if maybe, just _maybe_, they're still a bit human inside, you know? It's possible, I swear."

"It sounds like you finally lost your mind," Gibby tells me.

"Maybe. My grandma lost her mind years ago." I shudder. As much as I love my grandma, I don't want to turn out like her, screaming that it's raining in the bathroom or that the numbers keep changing, and especially not have her random spasms of shouts or twitches. It's a frightening sight, trust me.

"If you go crazy, they'll get you faster," Gibby says.

"Yeah." I don't know. Maybe I am crazy. And here, that's one more way to get killed.

* * *

_Spencer_

"Here's good," Trina tells the group when we arrive at a motel. "We'll park for tonight. Half of us can sleep now, and then in four hours we'll switch. The other half will stay guard first." She scans around the group of nine and thinks for a minute. "Orenthal, André, Tori, Beck, and Cat will sleep first. When we get done, I want Beck to pair up with Orenthal and Cat to be with André and Tori."

"Why are we being paired up?" André asks.

"Because I don't trust you. And if you try to bail on us while we're standing guard..." Trina holds up her gun for emphasis. "I won't miss," she says with a wink. I gulp. As much as I love her, she scares me at the same time.

"Is the rooming situation the same deal?" Cat asks meekly.

"No. You and Beck go with Sam and Freddie to the other side of the building, and we'll stay here. That way we'll be able to see from all sides." Cat nods and walks with the aforementioned trio to the other side with their weapons.

"Trina," Tori nearly whispers, "I'm not gonna run-"

"I know."

"I'm not leaving you again-"

"I know."

Tori takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry-"

"I think you should go to your room with your friends." I gape at Trina. How could someone who was just so thrilled to be reunited with her sister be rude to her? There are times where I wonder if she's bipolar. I watch her turn her back to her sister and friends while they go to their room.

"That was rude," I tell her when we're alone.

"You don't have to tell me," Trina replies bitterly.

"You used to cry about wanting to be with her, and now you're basically rejecting her?"

"Don't worry, the car ride was almost complete silence."

"But _why?_"

"Because!" Trina screams. She takes a quick moment to collect herself before whispering, "Tori and I... we're not as close as you think. Before this apocalypse started, we were enemies. She hated me, I hated her. This is what brought us together. That doesn't mean that all is forgiven." She stands her ground and holds her gun tight to her chest.

"If I had a chance to be with Carly after everything we've been through, I would've forgiven her," I say to no one in particular. I lean back against the wall and stare into the night. I can already tell this will be a long evening.

* * *

_Beck_

"I know how you feel."

I roll onto my side and look over at Cat. "Huh?"

"I said, I know how you feel," she repeats. "You know, when I made you kill Jade."

I understand entirely. She made me put a bullet in my true love. Meanwhile, I had to force her to run away from the boy she loves while he was eaten alive. It seems like the merciless God of this world doesn't want any of us to have it easy anymore.

"It's not your fault," I say again for what feels like the hundredth time now. "If I hadn't, then she could come back, and it'd be even harder for me to kill her. At least now we know that she's lucky enough to be in a better place, right?"

Cat nods and takes a deep, jagged breath. "What about Robbie? What if he turns into a walker?" she wonders aloud. "Will he come after us? What if I have to shoot him? I don't think that I'd be able to do something like that."

"You're gonna have to. If you do, it'll be closure. You'll be able to move past and let yourself continue life. Or what's left of it."

"That's the hard thing about this world."

"What is?"

"Loving someone. If you love someone, you'll have to let them go one day. And when the time comes, what can we do but let whatever happens happen."

I sit up. "You've been through too much. Get some rest so we can keep watch."

"What about you?" Cat asks.

"I'll be fine. I haven't been able to sleep in months anyway. If worse comes to worse, you drive tomorrow." I move over to the hard chair by the window and watch as Cat is quickly out cold. I smile at her and stare through the blinds. As much as I find this nice, I frown at the sight of Sam and Freddie standing outside kissing as passionately as Jade and me used to.


	19. Chapter 19

_**A/N: I'm apologizing ahead of time for what's going to happen in this chapter. I just want to wrap up this story. So I'm posting this final chapter, and then I'll be finished. I don't know if I'll be inspired to do another crossover, or even an iCarly fic, but I'm working on a parody of Chess: In Concert for Victorious, so look for that sometime soon if you want. As I finished this, I was thinking of maybe doing a Spencer/Trina fic soon. I really do ship them. In my head, it makes total sense. I appreciate you guys sticking around for my stories.**_

_**WARNING: Character deaths. A lot. Not saying who or how many, but brace yourselves.**_

* * *

_Sam_

It's not even dawn yet when the sound of gunshots rings through the air. I sit straight up and hurry to get dressed. It might not be my time to stand guard, but I'll be damned if I lost someone else to a bunch of damn walkers. I grab my gun and rush out just as Freddie wakes up. Around the building, I see Spencer aiming his gun at what was once a standing form. The body is lying on the ground, the lifeless now returned to the hell it came from. I run up to him, but before I can ask if he's okay, I recognize the corpse. And scream.

"What the hell?!" I screech.

"He deserved it," Spencer says coldly.

"What's going on?" Beck shouts as he runs around the building.

"Who left Spencer alone?" I demand.

"Why - oh, my god!" Beck pales. He holds out his hand to stop Cat from coming closer.

"He's a liar," Spencer says.

"What?"

"Carly. My baby sister. They were together when this all started. And he left her in the middle of nowhere to die," Spencer explains. "He had this coming a long time, trust me." I look between Spencer and Orenthal. This boy, barely eighteen, no doubt, now dead out of a thirty-year-old man's thirst for revenge.

"Have you lose your mind?" Beck yells. "We could've used the extra person!" Soon, Beck and Spencer start a shouting match. One by one, everyone comes outside. A few are solemn, while the others are distressed over the murder of Orenthal. I hear someone throwing up, and I turn to see Tori heaving on the ground.

"Oh my god!" she cries. "Why?"

"He murdered my baby sister!" Spencer screams. He's sobbing now. The man's losing his mind.

"You guys, will you calm down!" Trina shouts.

"Imagine if he ditched Tori in the middle of nowhere and left her for dead!" Trina doesn't respond. Everyone just stands still. I sigh and take a step closer - he still hasn't pointed his gun down - in an attempt to coax him.

"Spencer, I know you're angry," I tell him slowly, "but you need to listen to me. I need you to put the gun down on the ground and step away from it." I take another step cautiously. Spencer's hands shake, but he does listen and puts the gun on the ground. He backs away into Trina's arms and I take the gun. "We need to move out," I say. "I know where to go."

"Where?" Cat asks.

"We're pretty close to the San Francisco Bay. My Uncle told me that he owns a boat there and that the key's hidden under the tarps. Full tank, weapons, food and water, the whole shebang. We're ten minutes away, plenty of time to make it there and go to some island in the Pacific easily. We'll be safer there."

"That... that's not a bad plan," Freddie says. "And, um, how long have you known this."

I stare at the ground. "A while, actually, but I wanted to make it a last resort. Trust me, waiting until now is saving more lives."

"Uh, guys?"

"Really, waiting until later?" Freddie asks loudly. "After two months, after losing your cousin and everyone else, you wait until _now_?"

"Guys!" André shouts.

"_What?!_" Freddie and I yell.

"Look..."

We look in the direction André is pointing. There's a large horde of walkers. It reminds me of every zombie movie, where the good guys die in the end in this large mob of flesh-eating bastards. But... they're not walking. They're trying to... _run?_ Since when the hell can walkers run?

"They've evolved," André notes. "They're runners now."

"Then why the fuck are we standing around?" Trina asks. "Everyone, get in a car!"

* * *

_Trina_

I shouldn't have went and grabbed my hidden revolver that I keep in my bag. I should've hopped in a car and drove away. I was the last one to leave, alone in Orenthal's crappy ride. I see André and Tori on the back of one truck, Spencer and Beck on the back of the other, and Sam on her bike. I assume Cat and Freddie are the drivers.

This new breed of walkers are new to us. They are much faster than others - screw it, they're as fast as a _horse_. Thank God we're not on foot, or else we'd all be screwed. And thank Sam's uncle, wherever the hell he is, for having a boat ready for us to escape on.

I never thought I'd be able to see this moment. Escaping forever from the walkers, to a remote place, with my new friends, my baby sister, and better yet, the love of my life. He might've killed a man, but I still want to spend the rest of my life with him.

Suddenly, the van slows down. I glance at the dashboard.

The gas tank is empty.

No, no, no, no, _no!_ How the hell am I supposed to escape now? Here I am, the most ruthless walker-slayer left, trapped in a van that has no gas.

Within seconds, my van is surrounded by them, each one pawing at the vehicle in an attempt to get to me.

All I can do is lock myself inside and try to live as much longer as I can.

* * *

_Cat_

It's hard to keep on driving with Trina back there. It's even harder when André has to hold down a hysterical Tori so she won't jump out the car to be attacked by the other walkers still following us.

Sam's right. The bay is only ten minutes away. Walkers are still following us, but not too many to worry about.

"We'll get the boat, you get the walkers," Sam orders once we all park. She hops off the bike and dashes onto the boat. Spencer, Freddie, and Beck follow her. I get out of the car and stand by Tori and André.

"Let's kill these fuckers," Tori says. I feel like cursing isn't her forte, but I understand. I felt the same when Robbie was killed.

Oh, Robbie, how I missed him. Last night, Beck said I was moaning his name in my sleep. I wouldn't be surprised if I was. I was dreaming about the last time we were together. How he held me, made me feel special, made me feel more like a woman than any other guy had before. Never again will I have the chance to experience that. Oh, Robbie...

"Robbie," I hear André say.

"What about him?" I ask.

"Um, he's coming right at us."

"Huh?"

There's about a dozen walkers running full-speed at us. And, sure enough, there's Robbie out in front - _what?!_ My heart drops through the earth at the sight of him. Half of his scalp is torn off. His shoulder is dislocated and his arm swings freely with each stride. Blood and pus covers his body and spews out of his mouth. His glasses are gone. Half of his clothes are torn off his body. As much as I want to run away from him, I want to run up to him and hug him.

"Cat, shoot him," Tori hisses at me.

I should shoot him. All of them. I'm the one with the gun out of the three of us. But I can't. I can't kill Robbie.

"Cat, do it now!" Tori snatches the gun out of my hand and shoots at the walkers. She does nail six of them, none of them Robbie, before running out of ammo. "Shit!" She throws the gun to the side.

"Robbie!" I cry. I start to go to him. I need him. Dead or alive, I want to be with him forever.

"Cat, no!" André yanks me back into Tori's arms. "Take her on the boat," he orders.

"Why?" she asks.

"Just do it now! And whatever you do, neither of you look back!" Tori holds on to my wrist tight and pulls me behind her as we run to the boat. As we're getting on, Freddie and Spencer are shoving two walker corpses into the bay. The boat roars to life and Sam drives it away.

As we're speeding away, I force myself to look back. There's André, being eaten alive by Robbie and the other walkers. A tear rolls down my cheek and I wrap my arms around Tori. I know she already knows what happened.

* * *

_Freddie_

About an hour out into sea, I notice Beck and Cat have been staring at me for a while. It starts to grow disturbing, but I can see Spencer giving me the same look. Tori does too. Sam, who's driving the boat, keeps on looking out at sea.

"Is there something on my face?" I demand. "Why the hell are you all staring at me like that?"

"Take off your shirt," Beck says. When I raise an eyebrow, he adds, "Just trust me, you might want to." I don't feel like fighting and take my shirt off. Cat gasps and shields her eyes.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"You're bitten."

I widen my eyes and look down. Beck's right. There's a bite mark on my shoulder. I must've been hurt when the two zombies surprised us on the boat. I didn't think they'd gotten me.

Oh, no.

"What should I do?" I ask as calmly as I can manage.

Spencer stands up. "I'll drive the boat so Sam can say goodbye," he says. I watch him go to Sam and take the wheel. He tells her something and she turns around. Soon, she's hugging me, carefully so she's not touching the infected area.

"Not you too," she cries. "Anyone but you."

"I know," I say quietly. "I don't want to say goodbye. But..." I reach into my pants and take out my gun. "I want you to do it."

Sam shakes her head. "No, I can't," she sobs. "I really can't."

"I need you to." I hold her hand. "It'll be closure. So you can move on."

"Sam, you need to," Beck says. "I had to do the same thing, and I don't regret it. Trust us."

Sam nods and takes the gun. I move to the edge of the back of the boat. Once I sit, Sam quickly gives me one last kiss. I press my lips together when she stops, letting the tingling sensation from her touch linger one last time. I look at her one last time and close my eyes when I hear the click of the hammer.

"I love you," I hear her say through tears.

* * *

_Tori_

Sam moved on from Freddie. She spent that night crying and moping, but now she could accept his fate. I did with André and Trina too. Spencer told me how much he loved my sister and how he wanted to be with her forever. He's been treating me like a little sister. I think he might've called me Carly once or twice. But it's okay, because he's the big brother I need.

Beck, Cat, and Sam are all in mourning too, also over losing something more than siblings. They all talked about the memories they had with these other people, Jade and Robbie, and Freddie, too. I sort of felt bad for them. I wish I could relate, but I don't know what it's like to lose someone you're in love with. I've lost a friend and a sister, but not the love of my life. I still haven't met him, and I never will at this rate.

On Day Five out at sea, I wake up to two words I thought we'd never hear: "Land, ho!"

We all stand behind out captain, Sam, and stare at the random Island we've come across. It looks like nothing, but it's our home now. We're finally free to be alive. We can restart a new civilization, one like we had before.

About a mile offshore, I see people running toward the shore. At first, I thought they were natives, glad to see they weren't the only ones left in the world.

But I was wrong.

We were coming to an Island of walkers.

And the boat was running low on fuel.


End file.
